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Subject: {ASSM} Repost from 1998-Teacher Passes The Test, Part 6-Spare The Rod And Spoil The Teacher (mM/F/everything
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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! 
**********************************************************

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 Hungary.  I saw 
the tailings of my semen glistening just within.  I released her cheeks 
and her asshole closed slowly, hiding from my view.  I was physically 
satiated for the moment.  But my mind still raced.  

"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.  
*************************************************************

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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