CRUSH ON TEACHER (Fantasy story--CHAPTER 5) Thursday, 05-Feb-98 17:48:39

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The classroom intercom crackled to life. Mr. Hammond's voice droned "Mrs.Mosher, you've got a call, Line 1, in the teacher's lounge. Mrs.Mosher, call on Line 1, the teacher's lounge." Mrs.Mosher excused herself quickly and left, shutting the closet door behind her. While Cindi and Keisha continued passing up in half-stacks the materials for storage, the girls making up the human ladder made conversation with each other. Keisha was careful to step around Mark's fingers, but Cindi stepped from hand to hand as she passed by, usually giving Mark's fingers a slight twist with her soles. If Mark hadn't been so worried about his arms giving way, he probably would've already c-- in his pants. Cindi's cruelty was about to bring Mark to another orgasm. Keisha was worried. Under her breath, so the other girls wouldn't hear, she whispered "Cindi, will you stop that?! That's got to hurt. Would you want someone stepping on your fingers?!" "That's the point, Keish. He WANTS us to step on his fingers. Don't you get it?? He's enjoying this!" Cindy shot back. "You mean-- he. . " Keisha wasn't sure she understood. "Girlfriend, he WANTS to be crushed. He WANTS to be stepped on! So stop being a priss and trample some fingers! Think about it," she continued--as though counseling her, as she stomped down hard on Mark's fingers on another pass with materials, "how often do you get the chance to actually stomp someone's fingers and get away with it? I'm telling you, he LIKES it!! Here, just pretend Mark's that guy who dumped you for that redheaded bimbo at the movie theatre this Summer. You never got revenge on them, did you? Here's your chance. Let out the anger. Otherwise, it's gonna keep eatin' at you. You NEED to get that anger out. Mark NEEDS to be the recipient of that anger. So just shut up and stomp him!" Keisha saw her point. With her hands full of materials, she carefully placed her sandal gently on Mark's fingers and whispered sympathetically, "Mark, is this really . . um. . okay?" Mark was too horned up to speak-- his throat had gone dry minutes ago-- so he just nodded. Keisha's long black toes and sandals contrasted greatly to Mark's pinkened white fingers. He looked at her pretty pink toenails, perfectly rounded and obviously well-kept. He could tell she spent a lot of time on her feet. They were black and perfect, and they flexed so deliciously as she brought down her weight, crushing Mark's almost dead fingers beneath. On the next hand she stepped a little less gingerly. Within 2 minutes she was almost jumping on Mark's fingers she and Cindi continued ferrying materials to the human ladder. Mark couldn't believe this was actually happening to him. Girls were stomping back and forth across his fingers. And they were enjoying it. If it weren't for that one girl's angry sneaker soles digging into the flesh of his back he would've swore this was all a dream. It was certainly more than he'd fantasized about. Mark's heart suddenly lept into his throat-- the closet's doorhandle was turning. Slowly. Oh, no! He couldn't be discovered like this! He felt humiliated enough already without anyone stumbling across this fetish-feeding frenzy Mrs.Mosher had so graciously set up. Thankfully, it was Mrs.Mosher. She stood there inspecting her worker bees. She was smiling. Almost on cue Cindi announced they'd passed up the last of the materials to be stored up top. Mrs.Mosher proclaimed their work here finished. The human ladder dismantled itself as methodically as it had been set up. As Mark started to stand he realized his back was killing him. And if it hadn't been for the constant distraction of Cindi and Keisha marching back and forth across his fingers with their sexy, sandaled feet, he might've given out after just a couple minutes of being the ladder's base. Mrs. Mosher called the chattering girls to order and told Mark to go ahead and lie down on his back--"Just take it easy for a minute, Mark. You deserve a short rest." What did she mean "short rest?" Right now he just wanted to crawl home, crawl into bed, remember the pleasure, release his c--, and sleep till whenever. "Okay, ladies. Now earlier, you may remember, Mark-- in his youthful arrogance-- told me in this very closet that he could take anything a bunch of bubblebrained cheerleaders could dish out!" The girls reacted tersely, even though this was a complete lie-- Mark had never said anything like that at all, and he was just about to say so when Cindi jumped in-- "All right. I say we give him a chance to prove it." The natives were getting angry. Mrs.Mosher seized the floor again-- "And just to have proof that he can, I'll set up my handycam here, just outside the closet door, and then you ladies will each have your chance to individually try to get Mark to say 'Uncle.' And once each of you has had your turn, we will all pile on and try crushing him as a team. Now, before we start, let me make a couple of rules: 1) You'll only have 2 minutes each. 2) You have to jump off IF and when he cries 'Uncle.' Oh, and 3) You have to jump off at the first sight of blood-- we want to cause Mark pain, but we don't want to injure him. Is that clear?" All the girls gave their assent. Cindi called dibs on going first. Keisha called dibs on being second. And the girl with the angry-soled hi-tops called dibs on going last, explaining that she wanted to be the one to finish him off. With the camera set up on its tripod and rolling, and Mark lying along the back wall of the closet, Cindi stepped up to his feet. She just smiled down at him a dirty, wicked smile that actually put the fear of God in him. But damn, she turned him on. Standing there, staring down at him, she made him feel as though he were going click-click-click up the big hill on the rollercoaster, just before he got dropped straight down the other side. She took a deep breath and hissed "Somebody time me!" And with that, she actually jumped up in the air and landed both feet on his ankles. The Dr.Scholl sandals she was wearing instantaneously shot thunder from his ankles to his brain. Then she started this running in place action all the way up his legs, an inch at a time. "How'm I doing?" She barked. Someone told her she still had a minute and a half left. When she got to his groin area, she stopped, looked him in the eye, and with the ball of her right foot, she slowly stroked down his rod before stomping the head of it with her heel. Mark almost sat up. Cindi kept up the running in place up his stomach, chest, and then started to step on his nose but stopped just long enough to kick off both shoes-- "Don't wanna draw blood so early" she threw off quickly in explanation to the onlookers. Mark was thankful. Cindi then planted the ball of one stinky, bare foot down squarely on his mouth, gripping his nose between her big toe and the one next to it. "Can you breathe okay, now, maggot?" she teased. Mark couldn't breathe, and she knew it-- she'd completely blocked his airways. Then shifting all her weight forward onto that foot, she lifted her other foot off his chest and began feeling for his stomach. Mark was almost seeing stars, and her foot was shoving his lips into his teeth and cutting them. He could taste the blood, but he didn't want the game to stop. He liked the ways her toes clawed into his face as she tried to keep her balance. Without warning, Cindi shifted all her weight to the foot on his stomach and crushed the wind completely out of him. While the foot that had been crushing his mouth dangled above his face, Mark was trying his best to gasp for breath, flex his stomach muscles so he could lift her and get air to his lungs. He even mouthed the word "Uncle," but no one noticed. His face was turning bright red. Suddenly, Cindi place her foot back down over his mouth and nose and returned all her weight there, this time bringing the other foot up to rest on top of the one crushing his lips and nose. Mark was almost in nirvana. This was something he'd really love to have repeated. Fat chance, he thought. Someone called "Time!" and Cindi jumped off. Standing beside Mark she growled down at him --"Almost! I almost had you! And you know it! I want a rematch!" She didn't expect Mark to whisper hoarsely and out of breath "Okay, . . but later." Cindi knelt down close to his face. "All right, maggot. I'm gonna hold you to that. We'll have our little rematch later," she whispered. "Just you and me. . and no time limits!" She smiled an evil smile. Mark couldn't believe that she actually wanted to do this again-- so he just looked back at her with saucer eyes, still trying to convince himself he'd just heard her say what he thought she said. "Hey, girl, outta the way. My turn!" Keisha sounded agressive. She was looking forward to this.

What happens next? Read the conclusion--chapter 6!

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