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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2003 07:52:57 -0600
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Subject: {ASSM} Repost from 1998--Teacher Passes The Test, Part 4--Nothing Like A Facial To Tighten Up Those Pores (mM/F/everything
Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2003 19:10:06 -0500
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Copyright (C) 1998,   Shakespeare_I._Aint.  ALL Rights Reserved

 **WARNING**  This story contains sexual material and is intended for 
legal and mature adults in Countries where such material is permissible 
to view, download and/or possess.  If you are not a legal adult or the 
laws of your country prohibit these types of materials, do not proceed 
any farther!  Hit the "Back" button on your browser! 

Comments/Critiques/Questions/Answers?
Email me at Shakespeare_I._Aint@excite.com

Other Storys and Parts available at: 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakespeare_I._Aint

It's All Free! 




Title: Teacher Passes the Test, Part 4 of 10, Nothing Like a Facial to 
Tighten up those Pores, (m/MF, everything)


======================================================================      

Our anti-hero waits patiently for his puppy love to return home from a 
night out with her friends.  A spanking good time. 
=======================================================================





 The next schoolweek passed quickly, and I was really looking forward to 
my Friday night quality time with my unwilling new friends.  Mrs. Van 
Horn practically spat nails every time she looked over at me sitting 
innocently at my desk.  I could tell she was angry that she hadn't been 
able to charm me into going easy on her when I visited.  Oh well.  

I had dropped off Edwin's thousand on Tuesday, and he chatted with me 
desultorily.  He mentioned that Cindy had plans to go out Friday night 
with other teachers from the school and that he didn't think she would 
be coming home early that night as I had ordered her to do.  I told him 
it wouldn't matter in the long run.  

Edwin also mentioned that he had taken a physical for the school system 
and would be reporting back to his guidance counselor position with a 
few weeks.  I had blown his lawsuit for him.  He stressed that he didn't 
mind going back to work--he needed something to keep his mind off the 
mess he had made of his life.  I left.  Ed's depression was getting me 
down.  Worse, he didn't seem to think I could get through to his wife.  

On Friday night, at nine in the evening, I rang the bell.  Edwin Van 
Horn ushered me in.  He was nervous.  

"What's wrong now, Ed?"

"Cindy phoned after school.  She told me she was heading out to dinner 
and drinks with her friends..."  There was more coming.  

"She say anything about me, Ed?"

"Uh...um..."

"What, Ed?"

"She said...she said she's tired of your bullshit." 

"She really say that, Ed?"  

"Um...yes."

"What's wrong with her, Ed?"

"Honestly Damien, she has a stubborn streak a mile wide.  You'll have to 
excuse her.  She doesn't know what she's saying when she's angry.  
She'll probably be back soon.  How about we have some beers and smoke a 
bowl.  She'll be along soon."  Ed was trying to convince himself.  
Afraid of what a crazy young man like me might do.

"I hope so, Ed.  I hope so."  I was feeling a bit angry.  

"Don't worry.  Sit down, make yourself comfortable."  Ed was all 
appeasing tonight.  Nervous as a cat.  

We moved down into Ed's sanctuary in the basement and drank a few beers 
and smoked some of his most excellent reefer.  His supply was rapidly 
dwindling and I wondered if he'd ask me for some of his stash back.  
Edwin glanced nervously at the clock as 10:00 p.m. came and passed.  At 
11:00 p.m. there was no sign of Cindy.  It was time to act.  

"Ed, do you know what time it is?"

"uh...it's a little after eleven.  Cindy should be home any minute now."

"Ed, I have a feeling I'm going to have to go and get her."

"No, no--I'm sure she'll be home soon.  You want another beer?"

"Ed.  Ed.  Stop this.  Stop covering for your wife.  I told her to be 
here at ten.  It's after eleven.  She brought it on herself, Ed.  
Nothing you could do.  It won't be your fault."  

Ed looked desperate.  "Now, Damien.  Please, I'm begging you.  Don't do 
anything stupid.  Don't hurt us.  Don't hurt her.  Please."  

I smiled my evil smile.  "Don't worry.  I'm not going to the cops.  And 
I'm not going to drag her out of the bar in front of her co-workers.  
But, she's got dues to pay, Eddie.  She's got dues to pay."

Ed's face was twisted in anguish.  I believe he still loved his wife 
after all the shit she had put him through.  He seemed to come to a 
decision in his mind.  He squared his shoulders and looked earnestly at 
me, a fifteen year old boy who scared him.  

"Let me do it.  Let me do it for you, and we'll all talk about this 
together some other night.  Okay?"

"Do what, Ed?"

"Let me--let me do you.  Get you off, and then you can go home.  We'll 
talk to Cindy tomorrow, all right?"  Ed was begging me.  Nice.  

"How about this, Ed.  You get me off.  Then you give me a ride to that 
bar.  You leave.  I settle up with our little teacher.  No one finds out 
nothing.  She gets a little punishment.  That's my last, best offer Ed.  
I will promise you it won't be public.  It'll be between me and her."

Ed was wringing his hands, pacing anxiously across the floor.  I kept an 
empty beer bottle next to me, in case he got to feeling like a hero.  

"You won't mark her up?  Hurt her permanently?  No one else will find 
out?"  He needed to be reassured.  

"Ed, I haven't lied to you yet.  This ain't about sex.  This is about 
control.  She wants control.  I have control.  And she can't have it.  
It's that simple.  I don't want this cozy relationship to end 
prematurely.  It's got to run it's natural course.  And I'm telling you, 
Ed, she's going to fuck this up.  For all of us.  I got to restore the 
balance of nature.  And that's what I'm going to do.  Now, do you have 
something to give me, or do I take it?  Because just thinking about this 
is getting me pissed off again."

Edwin Van Horn, emasculated, short, portly guidance counselor, nodded 
unhappily.  "What do I do?"

I stood and took off my pants and underwear.  Sitting down again, I 
motioned him to my groin.  Edwin stared hypnotically at it, as though it 
were a cobra.  He inched closer and dropped to his knees between my 
legs.  "Oh God,", he whispered forlornly before taking my dangling 
member into his mouth.  

And Edwin Van Horn sucked me.  His wife's student.  His beard brushing 
uncomfortably against my thighs as he worked me.  In and out of his 
mouth.  It was not a sexual thing--I said before I'm not gay or even 
bisexual.  And it wasn't about sex.  It was about control.  It's nice to 
be in control.  

Edwin Van Horn fellated me to a point where I thought seriously about 
just ejaculating into his mouth.  A nice relaxing blowjob.  Nah.  

"Okay, Eddie, that's enough.  Drop your trogs and assume the position."

His head slowly came off my cock, leaving me wet and ready.  He appealed 
mutely to me.  Then he stood shakily, like an old man.  He slowly undid 
his sweatpants and underwear and listlessly tossed them to the floor.  
Knelt on the cool basement tile, on his hands and knees.  Waiting.  I  
placed his sweatpants under me to cushion my knees.  

"Head down, Eddie, and reach back and spread 'em."  His hands came back, 
grasping his ass cheeks.  They spread and I saw his pink anus.  Didn't 
do nothing for me--glad I already had a hard-on.  I pressed against him 
and he groaned.  I pushed into the rectum of a guidance counselor.  My 
first man to man thing.  It was warm and tight.  Not as tight as his 
little wife, but snug, clasping my penis.  I buried myself slowly.  

"Ed, you can play with yourself, if it helps."

His right hand disappeared from his butt and curled under to his 
abdomen.  As I began to fuck him, I saw his elbow moving in time to my 
thrusts.  Ed was going to be all right.  I sawed into him for two 
minutes, each stroke getting some form of response from him.  Probably 
pretty uncomfortable for him, I reflected.  He's a trooper, though.  
Then inspiration struck, and I knew what I needed to do.  

"Stay here," I commanded Ed.  I pulled out and ran upstairs.  Locating a 
shot glass, I returned.  I reinserted my cock in Ed's swollen anus, and 
worked myself back to the brink of orgasm.  I put the shotglass down 
next to him.  

"Come in the glass, Ed."  

He grabbed the shotglass and held it against the head of his cock.  I 
put all my effort into my last strokes, burying myself in his bowel.  He 
groaned aloud and I knew he was spurting by the way his ass clasped my 
cock.  I pushed hard into him and released my semen into Edwin Van 
Horn's ass.  I spurted a week's worth of spunk up his backside while he 
groaned, lost in his own orgasm.  I pulled out to survey my handiwork.  
Ed's anal ring was red and swollen, gaping open like an unhappy mouth.  
After I left his ass, Ed rolled onto his side, gasping.  I could see 
that he had filled half the shotglass.  He watched me tiredly, expecting 
me to order him to drink his own seed.  Not a terrible idea.  But not 
what I had in mind.  

"You okay?"

"Yeah.  I just need a rest."

"All right.  You can get dressed when you're ready.  I've got to get 
some stuff ready for our little trip."  

I dressed and moved off into the basement.  They had a nice big 
recreation room down there, with a wet bar and a Ping-Pong table.  I 
grabbed a paddle from there.  Inside a huge closet, I found a goalie's 
mask.  How perfect.  Upstairs, I got a cloth shopping bag and a cordless 
hair dryer.  I didn't even know they made such things.  In the garage, I 
found a hatchet and a artist's paint brush.  Heading back downstairs, I 
found Ed slowly dressing.  

"Well Ed?"

"Well what?"

"How was it?"

"What do you mean, how was it?  Do you mean how do I like sucking cock 
and getting butt fucked by a fifteen year old?  Yeah, it's great," he 
said.  "I keep thinking how lucky I am to have met you."  He obviously 
had issues.  Poor Ed.  

"Well, it's not like you didn't come.  You must have enjoyed some of 
it."

Edwin Van Horn took off his glasses and wiped them absently.  He looked 
perilously close to crying.  A grown man.   

"I know.  I know," he said miserably.  "That's what scares me.  Maybe 
I'm not happy unless someone is using me.  You or my wife.  Telling me 
what to do, and making me to do it."

"Don't get maudlin on me, Ed, or I'll be forced to use other adjectives 
on you.  Let's go."  

"Where are we going?"

"You are going to take me to the bar.  I'll wait for your wife.  You 
just come back here and head to bed."

He became anxious again.  "Don't hurt her, okay?"

"You still love her, don't you?"  

"A little.  I'm just used to her by now.  Maybe when this is all over, 
we'll make up and it'll be like it used to be."  

"Whatever.  Let's go."

We headed out in Cindy's Viper.  She had taken Ed's Explorer that night, 
leaving her car in the garage.   Fabulous car, the Viper.  Fabulous.  I 
bet it could really move.  Ed however, showed serious respect for all 
posted speed limits.  

We arrived at Dave and Buster's, a huge upscale video 
gaming/nightclub/restaurant complex about ten minutes away.  The parking 
lot was half empty.  The time was after midnight.  We cruised the lot 
until Ed located the Expedition.  I grabbed my bag of goodies and bailed 
out after giving Ed his marching orders and taking his key to the 
Explorer.  When I was certain Ed had truly left, I let myself into the 
Explorer and climbed into the back seat.  It was cool out, but the plan 
wouldn't work unless I was naked.  So I shucked off my clothes, donned 
my goalie mask, and waited.  At 1:30 in the morning, I saw Cindy and 
three other people approaching.  Suddenly, I realized that Cindy might 
have given someone a ride here.  They came closer and I could hear them 
laughing and bullshitting.  I huddled down on the floor.  Two men, two 
women.  They stopped outside my door chatting drunkenly to each other.  
Then one of the couples apparently left.  Cindy was left alone with the 
last male, a teacher named Richard Stokes.  A good-looking macho man in 
his late twenties.  We called him Dick Stroker at school.  He was on the 
make.  

"You want to come back to my pad?  You can crash there if you like."

"I'd love to, Richard, but I can't.  Not yet.  Edwin needs me."  

"Cindy, we talked about this.  If Edwin hits you, he's not a real man.  
You should leave him.  You can crash at my place for awhile.  C'mon, it 
might even be fun.  I'll treat you like a little princess."

"No Richard, it's not right.  I have a duty to make a last effort to 
save my marriage.  You know me, just a silly little schoolteacher always 
trying to do the right thing, even with a violent husband."

"At least, let me follow you--make sure you get home all right."

"I'd appreciate that, Richard.  You're too good to me."         

"It's my pleasure.  You deserve a real man.  I want to be that man.  It 
could be beautiful between us."  

"Hush, Richard, hush."

Richard left, presumably to get into his own car.  Cindy fumbled 
drunkenly with her key to the Explorer.  I crouched low on the floor of 
the back seat.  The atmosphere exploded with the interior light and the 
smell of her perfume as she clambered into the high driver's seat.  Then 
the lights went out and she started the vehicle.  We waited a minute, 
Cindy humming some industrial dance tune.  Another vehicle's headlights 
cut across our bow.  Cindy jerked the Explorer into 'drive' and off we 
went.  I could feel the uneveness of her intoxicated driving and prayed 
the cops wouldn't stop her and find a naked boy with a goalie mask on 
crouched with a hatchet in the back seat.  I had felt that an axe would 
be too unwieldy in the confines of the Explorer.  

Cindy and her escort vehicle made the ten minute trip in about eight 
minutes.  Cindy mumbled a bunch of shit I couldn't understand.  She was 
nervous and upset.  Hopefully about me.  She rolled up the driveway to 
her home.  Teacher Richard Stokes stayed at the street, beeping his horn 
once, then continuing on.  Cindy drove up to the garage, and stopped.  I 
could see the corner of her head above me as she surveyed the house.  
The lights were off.  The Viper was in the garage.  

"motherfucker better not be here...tired of this shit...fucking 
Edwin...fucking orphan punk...better not be waiting...i'll fucking kill 
him...whip me...no fucking way...richard'd tear that fucking kid 
apart..." 

My drunken schoolteacher was reluctant to leave the safety of the 
vehicle.  In fact, she locked the doors, interior light on, leaving the 
engine running while she rambled, staring out into the darkness.  It was 
time.  I slowly eased up into the back seat, my hatchet ready.  I could 
see myself in the rearview mirror.  I waited for Mrs. Van Horn to notice 
me.  Her eyes flicked once to the rearview mirror then flicked away.  
Then came back, staring, her eyes large.  Staring at the reflection of a 
naked monster in a goalie mask, with a hatchet, inside the confines of 
her locked vehicle.  She screamed.  

I gave an eerie moan and grabbed her blonde hair, pinning her head back 
against her driver's seat.  She screamed anew, and I sensed her body go 
limp for a few seconds.  I heard a whizzing sound.  I surged forward, 
pressing my hatchet to her throat lightly, issuing a blood-curdling 
laugh.  My lovely young teacher had pissed herself.  The smell of her 
urine filled the vehicle.  She had no strength to scream, her eyes 
locked in the rearview mirror as I held her.  

"HELLO, CINDY,"  I screamed at her.  

She gasped, her breath returning in a cry.  Her eyes slammed shut, huge 
tears leaking out.  Her chest was heaving.  She sat bolt upright in her 
urine, my hatchet at her throat.  

"YOU'RE LATE."

"please...oh God...please...don't...do...i'm sorry...oh god, i'm so 
sorry..."  My schoolteacher was babbling on the edge of madness.

"I HAD TO FIND YOU."

"oh...oh...God, please...please God...don't kill me...please...

"I'M VERY DISAPPOINTED, CINDY.  YOU'VE BEEN A BAD GIRL."

"please don't kill me....i'll do...please please please...i'm so 
sorry...so sorry...

"IT'S YOUR TIME TO DIE, CYNTHIA VAN HORN."

"no no no no no....no."  Her eyes were rolling in her head.  

"Get in the back seat, Cynthia."  I pulled harder on her hair.  She 
twisted in her seat, practically falling headlong into my lap.  I laid 
the hatchet quietly into the back of the vehicle.  She was sobbing, 
certain that I was going to kill her.  Her short shirt was hiked up over 
her thighs.  I held her face in my groin.  Her nimble lips sought my 
penis eagerly.  She wanted to avoid my wrath--wanted to save her own 
life by pleasing me.  She took my penis--soiled from Ed's ass, into her 
mouth gladly, like an infant seeking a nipple.  She sucked me noisily.  

"What Cindy?  You don't want to die?  You want to live?"

"yes." She mouthed fervently around my cock rising to erection.  

"It might be better if I killed you.  Save a lot of problems.  I'm crazy 
anyhow--you know that."  

"no...no...you're not crazy....don't say that...you just need some 
loving...let me help you..."  Her mouth was a warm, whirling dervish on 
my cock.  

"Suck me, Mrs. Van Horn.  Suck my cock.  It's got some shit on it from 
your husbands ass.  Do you really want to do this?"

"yesyesyes.  i'll be good to you...  just lay back.  i'll suck you.  
i'll suck his shit right off you... it's good... it's good..."

"If I don't kill you, I'll have to punish you.  You know that don't 
you?"

"yesyesyes.  punish me.  i've been bad.  i've been bad.  don't kill me.'

I felt her hot breath on my cock as she babbled.  Little Cindy wanted to 
live.  As though I had any intention of murdering her.  It's all in the 
perception.  

"Mrs. Van Horn?"

"yes, Damien?"  

"Take your clothes off and get on your hands and knees for your 
punishment."  

Cindy scrambled up, tearing her clothes off, staring earnestly into my 
eyes to show her devotion.  I smiled evilly at her.  She was genuinely 
frightened of me.  She clambered onto the seat, her ass pressing back at 
my elbows.  I turned towards her backside, wet with her urine.  I 
reached into my bag of tricks on the floor and pulled out my Ping-Pong 
paddle.  

"Cindy, if I wanted to piss in your mouth, would you drink it?"

"yes," she breathed immediately, no hesitation.  

"How did my shitty cock taste?"

"good."  

"I'm going to paddle your behind now Cindy.  Won't that be fun?"

"yes."

"I don't want to hear you screaming.  You can moan or cry or shit 
yourself, but don't scream.  If you scream, I go for the hatchet."

"okay."

I laid into her, slapping the paddle hard onto her ass cheeks.  The 
sound of the paddle on her wet flesh exploded in the car.  She gasped 
harshly with each slap.  But she did not scream.  I gave her thirty of 
my hardest, her ass red and waffled from the rubber covering of the 
paddle.  When I let up, she cried softly, her ass twitching most 
invitingly.  I brought the handle of the paddle to my mouth, coating it 
in my saliva.  

"Spread your cheeks, please."

Cindy spread her throbbing ass cheeks, exposing her hairless pussy and 
delicate pink anus to the cool air.  I leaned in and spit directly on 
her anus.  She flinched, but said nothing.  I pushed the handle of the 
Ping-Pong paddle against her butthole.  It resisted, then gave in.  The 
handle surged into my pretty little teacher's ass, up to the paddle.  
She moaned in pain and discomfort.  

"Turn over on your back.  Face against me."  

Cindy turned over slowly, impaled by the paddle.  She lay on her back, 
her face under my cock as I knelt over her.  I angled my cock down and 
it slipped into her mouth.  She sucked as if her life depended on it.  
She believed it did.  I raped her mouth brutally, slamming my groin into 
her face repeatedly.  

"When I pull out, you grab my cock and milk it onto your face."  

I continued bouncing off her, driving myself to orgasm.  It came, and I 
pulled out.  Cindy's hand grasped me and stroked me furiously.  I spewed 
on her face, coating her forehead, then her nose and chin with my spend.  
It was glorious.  She lay panting for air.  

I looked at my little teacher in the dim light.  Besmirched with my cum.  
A pretty little woman.  Time to switch gears.  I reached into my bag and 
grabbed the paintbrush and the hairdryer.  I plugged it into the 
auxiliary lighter in the back seat.  This vehicle had everything.  I 
began to brush my spend all over her face.  

"Cindy, I gave you a facial.  I'm going to spread it around, so your 
skin will be covered.  I want you to enjoy the taste and smell of my 
semen as you sleep tonight.  Thank me."

"thank-you," she said immediately.  

I brushed my ejaculate, spreading it all over her face, until she was a 
glistening little doll. Forehead, cheeks, eyelids, nose, chin.  All with 
an even sheen of semen.   

"Don't wipe this off now, woman.  It's my gift to you.  I want you to 
sleep with it.  If I show up in the morning, I expect you to meet me at 
the front door with this goo-pak on, understand?"

"yes."

I finished with my own load, then switched the hairdryer on, drying the 
spend on her face.  When it was fairly dry, I examined my work.  Her 
skin did look tightened.  It was all protein, you know.  Had to be good 
for her.  A second coat was called for.  

"Cindy, I want to put some more on you.  Fortunately, Ed donated to the 
cause.  Don't move."  

I brought Ed's shotglass of semen up, and painted a second coat of sperm 
onto her face, spreading it carefully for best effect.  Her eyes 
regarded me glassily.  She was quiet now.  No resistance.  I dried her a 
second time, and we were done. 

"Cindy, you are a perfect little china doll.  Try not to move your 
facial muscles until tomorrow.  Give the protein a chance to clean your 
pores.  Your face will thank you for it.  Now pull that Ping-Pong paddle 
out of your ass."

Cindy reached a hand between her splayed legs and gingerly removed the 
paddle from her ass.  Quietly.  

"I'm leaving.  I may be back tomorrow morning to check on you.  If I'm 
not there by ten, then go ahead and take a shower.  

I left.  

As a kind of an footnote, teacher Richard Stokes, also known as Dick 
Stroker, suffered the rest of the school year with an amazing array of 
car problems.  It seemed someone was constantly fucking with the engine 
of his Honda Accord; disabling some vital part of the wiring harness.  I 
know how frustrating and expensive repairs could be because I had spent 
a lot of time in the public library poring over wiring diagrams in the 
Honda Accord repair manual.  It became a familiar sight to see him 
biking furiously to school, just making it in before classes started.  
No suspects were identified.  It was the damnedest thing...                  
         


Comments/Critiques/Questions/Answers?
Email me at Shakespeare_I._Aint@excite.com

Other Storys and Parts available at: 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakespeare_I._Aint

It's All Free! 


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




















   

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