Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The following story is a work of fiction.  Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners.  Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead
is purely coincidental.  This story is intended for ADULTS only.  If you
are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction, or if you
are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.

   The Obligation - Part Two - by - The StoryMaster

   "Is that you, dear?" Melissa's mother called from the pantry.

   "Yes, Mom," the pretty teenager replied.  She winced slightly when she
turned a little too quickly to shut the kitchen door behind herself.  She
had to move fast though, if she wanted to make it through the kitchen and
into the relative safety of the hallway before her mom emerged from the
pantry.  She much preferred not to have to face her mother just now. 
Melissa breathed a sigh of relief when after three or four rather
ungraceful waddling steps she made it into the hall and proceeded in the
direction of her room.

   "Trevor called.  He wanted you to call him back as soon as you got
home," Melissa heard her mother say as she reached her bedroom door.

   "O..  OK, Mom," Melissa answered, opening the door and disappearing
inside.  Stepping gingerly she crossed the room and fell face down into the
pile of stuffed animals atop the fluffy comforter on her bed.  "How could
she talk to Trevor?  How could she talk to Trevor ever again?" she thought
miserably.  Then after a good cry, Melissa fell into a fitful sleep.

   Her dreams were dark and filled with disturbing images and confusing,
helter-skelter, scenes in which, incredible as it may seem, she was having
sex with Mr.  Johnson, her American History teacher, but that simply
couldn't be!  In her dream the man's hands were everywhere, and then
suddenly he was making love to her.

   "No, that wasn't exactly correct, was it?"

   As her nightmare progressed, Melissa slowly came to the realization that
it was she who was in motion.  As though she were having an out of body
experience she saw herself standing with her hands braced against a table
or a desk of some sort, and in horror she looked on as her other self
rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

   "Oh, no!  God, no!" Melissa cried in her subconscious mind, for suddenly
it became abundantly clear to the beautiful fifteen year old that it was
she who was doing all the love making and not her shadowy lover.  It was
she who was fucking him!

   In her slumbering state, Melissa groaned softly.  Unconsciously one hand
crept down to her lower abdomen, while the other moved to her breast.

   "Ohhh," she groaned aloud.  He was so big!  And he was hurting her.  Her
tummy ached terribly with a deep, throbbing...what?  Desire?  Mindlessly
Melissa rolled from side to side on her bed, while in her dreams the pain
in her abdomen intensified.  Then as will often happen in a dreamscape, the
scene changed.  Suddenly Trevor was there, seated cross-legged on the desk
right in front of her.  He was watching her, studying her actually, while
she made love.

   "Oh, Trev," Melissa whimpered.  Then she gasped abruptly when her
lover's huge engine invaded her once again.  "I'm ss..sorry, Trev," Melissa
said dejectedly.

   Her handsome beau looked so very sad.  Then Trevor was speaking to her,
but Melissa couldn't understand him, and suddenly he didn't seem at all
upset about the situation.

   "Why doesn't he help me?" she thought angrily.  "Doesn't he care that
another man is having his way with me?" Melissa thought indignantly.

   Then once again the dreamscape shifted, and Melissa found herself seated
beside Trevor on the tabletop, facing herself and her older lover.  She
watched as the man who looked a lot like Mr.  Johnson used one hand to
press downward on the small of her back, forcing her to arch for him.  It
was utterly mortifying, and when Melissa looked toward Trevor to see what
his reaction would be to the way she was being treated, she was astounded
to see that her beau gave no sign that he objected in the least to what was
being done to her.  Melissa heard herself groan loudly, and turned to see
that her lover had reached up under her torso and was squeezing and
kneading her tender breasts as the hazy ordeal continued.  It was then that
Melissa's attention was drawn to her facial expression as she watched
herself writhe wantonly in the older man's hands.  She fully expecting to
see distress and anguish etched upon her face, so you can imagine her shock
when what Melissa saw was anything but a look of pain or suffering.

   As she looked on with growing horror, Melissa perceived her facial
expressions changing much like a slide presentation.  Seated beside her
silent boyfriend, Melissa watched her clear blue eyes open wide with
wonder, then slowly they became hazy and distant.  Her cheeks were flushed,
and a sheen of perspiration glowed upon her forehead and upper lip.  She
was breathing heavily, her ribs plainly visible beneath her flawless skin
with each gasping breath.  Melissa watched herself slowly lower her head
between her arms, allowing her soft blond locks to sway freely to the
timing of her lover's cadence.  Dream time passed.  It could have been
minutes...  or hours...  or even days that she rocked to and fro in the
hands of her phantom lover.  Melissa raised her head and looked to her left
to where Trevor was seated, and was startled to discover that she was now
witnessing the scene through his eyes.  The real shock came, however, when
she realized that what she saw through Trevor's eyes was her dream self
becoming aroused and even passionate.

   "No!" Melissa cried and awoke with a start.  At first she was
disoriented and shaken, but gradually her breathing slowed as she realized
that she was lying in her own bed in her own room.  For a few seconds the
pretty teen lay bathed in blessed relief, believing that it had all been a
ghastly dream.  She glanced at the digital alarm clock on her bedside
table. It was almost eight-thirty.  She'd missed dinner, but perhaps there
were some leftovers in the fridge that she could use to whip together a
quick meal for herself.  "I'm starving," she thought to herself as she
raised up and rolled onto her side.

   No sooner did Melissa swing her legs over the edge of her bed and shift
her weight forward in an effort to stand, than she received a sharp
reminder of the reality of the afternoon she'd spent with Mr.  Benjamin
Johnson.  "Ugghh," the pretty teen grunted then jumped to her feet to
relieve the sudden pain and pressure in her nether region.  She reached
back and touched the hard plastic flange.  The feel of it, and its
foreignness made her cringe as slowly memories and images began to form in
her mind.

   Melissa recalled how her history teacher, had initially inserted the
despicable device into her vagina in order to lubricate it, then after
removing it from there, he'd proceeded to push the small torpedo shaped
appliance up into her rear end.  Then to add to her humiliation, Mr. 
Johnson had informed her that he wanted her to leave the hideous object in
place until the next day.  Naturally, Melissa had argued the point, but Mr.
Johnson wasn't about to capitulate.  In the end, Melissa had left his
office and the scene of her first sexual undoing, pantyless and bearing a
small memento of her newly established relationship with her history
teacher.

   The thought of it made her skin crawl.  At first it had hurt like hell,
but in a surprisingly short time, her body had adjusted to the foreign
object, leaving Melissa with a dull sensation of fullness back there, kinda
like she needed to use the toilet.  It hadn't taken long for her to figure
out that if she moved slowly, the dull pain the thing produced in her belly
was at least tolerable.

   Melissa wanted nothing more than to take a nice hot bath.  She felt
dirty all over, and when she took a moment to inspect herself, she found a
sticky mess between her legs.  Her soft pubic curls were all matted
together, and there was a viscous, musky odor which hung about her like a
shroud.  She felt disgusting.  In addition, Melissa remembered that she'd
been rather short with her Mom earlier that afternoon.  Melissa was never
rude to her mother and felt badly about it.  It wasn't quite nine o'clock,
and she knew she had time before the rest of the family turned in for the
night.  She would apologize to her Mom right after her bath.

   Melissa waddled toward the bathroom, shedding her clothing along the
way. Pausing briefly, she studied her reflection in the full length mirror
on the back of the bathroom door.  She didn't look that much worse for
wear, actually.  Her breasts were a little red and sore, as Mr.  Johnson
had taken great pleasure in mauling those smallish cones with his big
hands. Other than that there were no visible signs what so ever of
Melissa's afternoon engagement with her history teacher.

   The real effects of her first coupling were internal, and to Melissa,
they were very noticeable.  She'd never experienced that particular kind of
soreness before.  It was a dull, penetrating sort of ache that Melissa
found to be not altogether unpleasant in spite of the circumstances of her
liaison with Mr.  Johnson.  Although she hated the man for what he'd done
to her, subconsciously Melissa felt a peculiar sense of completeness, and
this presented a new and thoroughly confusing emotional conflict for her.

   She turned to the side to view her profile, and there it was.  The
flange of the anal plug that Melissa bore was in the shape of a rounded
rectangle about two inches by one inch, and was nestled snugly between her
buttocks such that her soft flesh was indented around it.  Melissa frowned
and touched the thing again.  The idea that she could be forced at the whim
of a total stranger to endure having a foreign object placed into her body
was utterly abhorrent to her, but if the truth be known, deep down in her
subconscious where her "inner female" resided, Melissa felt mild excitement
at the site of the hard plastic pressed between her fleshy globes.

   The barrel of device lay completely hidden from view, occupying the
first three inches of Melissa's rectal passage.  It was rounded at the tip
and approximately three quarters of an inch in diameter except where it
narrowed at its neck.  The design caused the appliance to interact with the
first anal sphincter, allowing the rubbery toroidal muscle to actually draw
the device inward, holding it firmly in place.

   For those of you who have joined our story late, Melissa Carpenter, age
fifteen, has just recently entered into an obligatory relationship with her
American History teacher, Mr.  Benjamin Johnson.  Ben Johnson had been
admiring Melissa from afar for quite some time and recently was fortunate
enough to have discovered the means by which he could convince the
vivacious little blond to spend some quality time with him.

   At the time Melissa was dating a very popular student by the name of
Trevor Williams, and the young couple were always together.  Trevor was a
fine young man, the son any father could be proud of.  He was a talented
athlete, an exceptional student, and he was totally devoted to Melissa
Carpenter.

   Trevor Williams also had the reputation of being impeccably honest.  So
when Melissa came to him, begging him to help her pass her mid-term exams
by supplying her with the answers to her American History test, Trevor was,
needless to say, torn between his strong morals and his desire to please
Melissa.

   In the end Melissa was able to win the young man over, but in Trevor's
defense you will wish to note that she was and is an exquisitely lovely
young lady.  And at the tender age of sixteen, Trevor Williams was ill
equipped to resist the kind of allure and enchantment that the beautiful
Melissa Carpenter brought to bear upon him.

   Melissa Carpenter was 5'-5" tall and weighed approximately 116 pounds.
She had strawberry blond hair that she was in the habit of wearing up with
straight bangs and a short pony-tail.  The immaculate shape of her nubile
young body was the stuff that wars are fought over.  At age twelve Melissa
began turning heads, and by the time of this writing she occupied the
secret dreams and desires of virtually every male she encountered, young
and old alike.  With square shoulders, broad hips and a slender waist,
Melissa was perfectly proportioned for her height and weight.  Her breasts,
although a little on the small side, were none the less delicately shaped
cones of flawless flesh, firm and every so slightly pointed at the tips. 
And her derriere, now there was a dream maker.  When Melissa Carpenter
strode the hallways of her school there were always numerous collisions
between distracted males in her wake, turning their heads to get a better
look.

   In addition, Melissa had a face that Michael Angelo would kill for.  At
a fairly young age, she discovered "the power of pretty", and in relatively
short period of time she'd developed it into an art form.  Melissa knew
exactly how to glance at a boy in order to bend him to her will.  Her lips
were full and her mouth slightly pouty and extremely expressive.  Melissa
knew precisely how to flash her big blue eyes in order to get her way.  On
the other hand those same sensual blue pools could instantly turn the
greygreen color of a storm swept sea if she was displeased.

   In short, Melissa Carpenter was, in the minds of many, an absolute work
of art.

   Ironically, it was her ability to sway the hearts and minds of men that
landed Melissa in her current predicament.  She managed without a great
deal of difficulty to convince her boyfriend, Trevor, that the rewards at
which she hinted would be well worth the sacrifice of his honor and
integrity, and that's how Melissa came by the answers to the exam.  As it
turned out, her tactics were sound, but her strategy wasn't well thought
out at all.

   Melissa wasn't a stupid child by any stretch of the imagination, but she
tended to be somewhat impulsive.  For example, she'd been turning in barely
passing grades the entire semester, then suddenly she practically aces the
mid-term.  Highly suspicious, I'd say, and so said Benjamin Johnson, her
teacher.  After confronting Melissa with what amounted to irrefutable
evidence of cheating, Benjamin devised a method by which she could make
restitution for her wrong doings.  The plan naturally involved Melissa
consenting to have sex with him which understandably was not at all popular
with the pretty teenager.  Fortunately though, Mr.  Johnson had a little
extra leverage in the form of Trevor's involvement in Melissa's
transgressions, which he used to encourage her to cooperate.

   Melissa was still exhausted, and as she slid into the warm water, she
found that she needed to turn slightly to one side, reclining on one hip
lest she bring pressure to bear against the exposed end of the device
buried in her rectum.  But the bath water was so wonderfully soothing that
after thirty minutes she began to feel almost human again. .

   More than once Melissa toyed with the idea of removing the repulsive
device.  "How would he ever know?" she reasoned.  One time she even reached
back, and with some difficulty grasped the flange of the imbedded anal
appliance and gave it a gentle tug.  Melissa quickly discovered that the
thing was in there pretty tight.  She found she could twist the device one
way or the other without causing herself too much discomfort, but when she
tried to pull on it, she instantly got this really "yucky" feeling in her
belly.  It wasn't painful exactly, just "yucky".  Melissa decided to leave
it alone for the time being, discovering that unless she messed with it or
sat on it, the thing really wasn't all that noticeable anymore.

   "Are you alright, Melissa?" her mother asked when the pretty teenager
wandered into the kitchen.  The older woman's concern for her daughter was
obvious in both her voice and her expression.  "I looked in on you last
night, but you were sleeping so soundly that I didn't want to wake you."

   Melissa gave her mother a puzzled look?  "Wha..  What do you mean, Mom?
It's only nine o'clock."

   Melissa's mother stopped what she was doing and turned to face her
lovely teenage daughter.  She looked very worried now.  "It's nine o'clock
in the morning, Melissa," she said.  "Are you sure you're feeling OK,
dear?" her mom asked as she dried her hands on a dish towel then went to
her young daughter.

   "Yeah, Mom, really," Melissa insisted as her mother took her by the
shoulders.

   "You don't look sick," the older woman said, placing her hand on
Melissa's forehead.  "And you don't appear to have a fever." Melissa's
mother put her fingers under her daughter's chin and made her look up at
her.  Then gazing into the pretty teenager's eyes, she asked in a sterner
voice, "You haven't been drinking or anything have you young lady?"

   Melissa squirmed and turned away.  She didn't appreciate being
scrutinized in such a manner, even though she knew that her mother was
genuinely concerned for her well being.  "Noo, Mother!" she huffed in a
decidedly exasperated tone of voice.  "You know I wouldn't do that," she
said, acting insulted that her mom would suggest such a thing.

   Melissa had never touched alcohol or drugs, or even tobacco, and she
took great pride in the way she conducted her personal affairs.  She
thought of herself as a good, wholesome, American teenager.  "Why I've
never even had sex," she thought to herself.  Then with a start, she
brought a hand to her mouth, and her eyes stared unseeing.

   Her mother noticed her pretty daughter's face grow paler, and her
expression become dark and distant.  "What is it, Melissa?  Tell me, dear,"
the older woman insisted and shook her daughter gently.

   For at least a minute Melissa remained lost in sullen thought.  Then
eventually she snapped out of it and tried to put on a brave face for her
mother's benefit, but only after concluding that from this moment on, she
would have to adopt a new self-image.

   "I'm alright, Mom, really," she said and tried to smile, even though
that was the last thing on Earth Melissa felt like doing.  "I just have a
little headache, that's all, and yesterday, I was feeling kinda nauseous.
Maybe I had a twenty-four hour flu bug or something," she offered, praying
her mother would cease and desist with her interrogation, well intentioned
as it might have been.  "Can you make me something to eat.  I'm really
starved," the pretty teen said in an effort to change the subject once and
for all.

   Her mother continued to stare at her for several rather uncomfortable
seconds before at last she said, "Well, alright then.  If you're sure
you're OK."

   "I'm alright, Mother.  I promise," Melissa insisted with just a hint of
impatience.  "But I'm really famished."

   "I guess you are," her mom said in a little bit brighter tone of voice.
"You missed dinner last night, you know," she scolded as she turned toward
the refrigerator.  "That's just not like you, dear."

   "Don't start again, please, Mom," Melissa pleaded as she went to the
kitchen table and plopped down into a chair.

   The pretty teenager was barely able to suppress an audible groan when
the disgusting thing that Mr.  Johnson had placed into her rear end jabbed
upward into some very tender tissues, and practically knocked the wind out
of her.  Melissa shot a quick glance in her mother's direction, and
thankfully her back was turned, or she most certainly would have noticed
the color drain from her young daughter's face and a distinct line of
perspiration spring to her forehead.

   "A Mr.  Johnson called for you about thirty minutes ago, dear,"
Melissa's mother said, as she rummaged about in the refrigerator.  "He said
he's your history teacher.  Is that right?"

   Melissa's blood ran cold, and she had to concentrate to keep her voice
steady.  "Y...yeah, Mom, he's my teacher.  W..what did he want?  Did he
say?" the teenager asked, fearing the worst.

   "Well, he said that he'll be tutoring you each week, something about
advanced social studies or the like," her mother prattled on as she set a
Tupperware container on the counter.  "Anyway, he said that Trevor's
involved too, and that he wants the two of you to come to his home this
evening to begin your studies," the older woman went on, not noticing the
expression of growing alarm on her pretty daughter's face.  "He said you
can stay for dinner, and that you might be quite late getting home, which
is fine with me, dear, since your father and I have plans anyway."

   Melissa's heart was going ninety miles an hour, and she tried
desperately to appear calm as her mother turned and set a bowl of
cantaloupe wedges in front of her.  Melissa couldn't think of anything to
say, so she sat staring at the bowl of fruit while her thoughts raced.

   "What wickedness does he have planned?" the distressed teenager
wondered. "And why involve Trevor?"

   "Anyway, dear, Mr.  Johnson said to be at his home at around five and to
come as you are, whatever that means."

   Melissa almost choked on a piece of cantaloupe.  She knew exactly what
her history teacher meant, as her mind's eye was tugged inward to the dull
throbbing presence in her backside.  "O..OK, Mom," Melissa managed after
regaining her composure.

   The ride to the home of Mr.  Benjamin Johnson was one of the most
uncomfortable experiences Melissa had ever been through to date, barring
one, of course.  Trevor's Jeep Wrangler had an extra heavy duty suspension,
and the custom bucket seats just happened to be shaped such that every
little bump or dip in the road caused shock waves to be transmitted from
the Jeep's big knobby tires directly into Melissa's lower abdomen by way of
the hard rubber device secreted away inside of her.  To Melissa, it felt as
though she were being kicked in the belly from the inside every few minutes
or so.  The knuckles of her right hand were white where she clung to the
side roll cage bar above the passenger door in an effort to raise her
shapely bottom up off the hard seat and attenuate at least a few of the
blows.

   "Ugghh, God!" Melissa groaned under her breath when Trevor, in his usual
driving fashion, brought the vehicle to an abrupt stop at a traffic light,
causing Melissa to rock suddenly forward then back and down onto the
hateful anal plug.  Beads of perspiration adorned her forehead and her mood
was anything but cordial as the pretty teen turned to her boyfriend and
hissed, "Can't you take it easy, please!"

   Trevor didn't know what to make of Melissa's attitude recently.  "Hell,
he'd done what she'd asked and gotten her the test questions.  She'd passed
her exams with flying colors, and she ought to be happy," the perplexed
young man thought to himself.  "Then she goes and breaks our date yesterday
with no explanation or anything, and tonight she's acting like she doesn't
want me around even though Mr.  Johnson invited us both over for dinner. 
Probably to celebrate Melissa passing his mid-term," Trevor surmised.  "If
he only knew," the young man muttered to himself, referring to his theft of
the history exam questions.  Trevor liked Mr.  Johnson, both as a teacher
and a person, and he felt badly about what he'd done, but that was all
water under the bridge now.  Melissa had passed the mid-terms, and that was
that, as they say.  "Now if only she'd be a little nicer to me, like she
promised," Trevor thought, glancing surreptitiously over at his pretty
girlfriend.  Melissa stared straight ahead, ignoring him entirely.  She
looked upset and even angry, Trevor noted.  "Hell, it's probably just that
time of the month," the trusting teenager concluded.

   For the past couple of years, Trevor Williams, like the rest of us, had
been forced to learn about the vagarities of the emotional female during
menstrual cycles, and his pretty girlfriend had introduced him first hand
to the joys of PMS.  Trevor caught on quickly, discovering that once every
month there would come a time where nothing he could say or do that would
count for anything, and once every month he learned to keep his distance.
"But this is different, somehow," Trevor reflected and was about to turn
his attention back to his driving, when just then the Wrangler hit a fairly
deep pothole in the road.  Trevor couldn't remember ever having seen the
kind of expression that appeared on Melissa's face.  "Are you OK, Mel?" he
asked when he saw her eyes grow suddenly wide and staring.  He thought also
that he'd heard her make a grunting noise of some sort.

   Melissa wouldn't look at him.  She didn't care about what Trevor thought
right now.  For a second or two all she could think about was catching her
breath which had been temporarily knocked out of her as though she'd been
punched in the gut.  Then as she struggled to maintain at least some
semblance of composure, Melissa's thoughts were occupied with trying to
figure out a way that she could gracefully exit the Jeep and make it into
her history teacher's house when they arrived without Trevor noticing the
growing wet spot on the back of her dress.  You see, just before the Jeep
hit that last big pothole, Melissa's bladder had been relatively full.  It
no longer was.

   Melissa knew that her panties were soaked, and she prayed that she
wouldn't leave a puddle in the seat as Trevor pulled up in front of the
home of Benjamin Johnson.  At the last minute, a thought occurred to her,
and Melissa asked Trevor if she might borrow his letter sweater that was in
the back seat, claiming that it might be cold in the house.  Stealthily the
pretty teenager tied the arms of the sweater around her waist so that it
covered the back of her dress to her knees as she slid from the Jeep. 
Glancing back as the door closed, Melissa noticed the distinct sheen of
moisture on the car seat she'd just exited but didn't think that Trevor had
seen it.  "Thank God they're vinyl!" she thought as she began the
uncomfortable walk to the front door.

   "Well, well, well!" Ben Johnson said in a very congenial tone of voice
to the two young people standing on his front steps.  "How nice it is to
see you both.  Do come right in," he added sticking out his hand to Trevor,
but all the while he had his eye on the young man's pretty girlfriend. 
When Trevor took his offered hand, Johnson practically drug the him through
the front door and into the foyer, before the polite high school student
could step aside and allow his girlfriend to precede him.  "And good
evening to you, Miss Carpenter," Johnson said, turning to Melissa.  "You do
look lovely tonight, my dear," he said reaching for her and placing a hand
onto her shoulder.  Melissa refused to look the man in the eye, averting
her gaze as she allowed him to draw her into his residence.

   Feeling it was one of the least provocative things she owned, Melissa
had chosen to wear a simple cotton, sleeveless sun dress, knee length and
teal in color.  Besides, summer was almost here, and the nights were
getting warmer.  And although she strongly suspected from his message that
Mr.  Johnson preferred that she not wear panties, Melissa had worn a pair
anyway, and right now she was very glad she had.  The absorbent cotton had
helped to trap at least a part of the flood resulting from the pothole
incident, and in addition Melissa had included a panty liner due to the
persistent vaginal oozing she was experiencing.  She was sure that her
dress was spotted in spite of the added protection, and she only hoped that
Trevor's sweater would conceal it.

   Benjamin Johnson noted the sweater right away, thinking it a little
incongruous with the rest of her ensemble, and as he guided Melissa into
the foyer, he glanced down at her pretty little rear end which he enjoyed
looking at but which was obscured by the heavy sweater.  Johnson thought
about the anal appliance that he'd placed into the lovely girl many hours
ago, and hoped that she'd obeyed him and left it in place.  He imagined the
dark rubber torpedo shaped plug surrounded by moist and tender tissues
which shifted around it as she walked past him.  Lost in this pleasant
daydream, Ben Johnson almost missed it, but at the last second before she
turned, his sharp eyes spotted the darker color of Melissa's dress where it
peaked out from under her boyfriend's letter sweater.

   "Her dress is wet," he correctly deduced.  Then glancing quickly in
Trevor's direction, Ben Johnson concluded from the young man's good natured
expression that he was clueless.  Looking then at Melissa as she sought to
maneuver herself nearer the wall, Johnson raised an eyebrow and smiled when
at last he caught her eye.  "We've had a little accident, haven't we," the
older man mused when Melissa blushed hotly, thereby confirming his
suspicions.  "And we haven't told Trevor about it," he reasoned, winking
covertly at the obviously uncomfortable young lady.

   Then with a gracious flare, Ben Johnson held out a hand, indicating the
way and saying, "Let's retire to the library for awhile until dinner's
ready, shall we." Moving to Trevor's side, Mr.  Johnson placed his hand
onto the shoulder of his former student, urging him forward.  Then
unexpectedly he turned to Melissa at the last moment and asked, "May I take
your sweater, my dear?"

   "N..no thank you," Melissa responded a little too quickly and looking
decidedly uncomfortable as she stared at her history teacher.  She quickly
averted her gaze when he grinned at her.

   "Wow, you've got a lot of books!" Trevor marveled, turning in a circle
and gazing at the ceiling high walnut book cases filled with rare volumes.
Melissa remained silent.  Her panties were cold and clammy and very
uncomfortable.

   "Yes, well.  I've been collecting them since my college days," Benjamin
Johnson stated proudly.  "And speaking of college, I suppose you'll be
leaving us pretty soon, young man," he said to Trevor.  Out of the corner
of his eye, he saw Melissa look his way.

   "Yes, sir, Mr.  Johnson," Trevor replied.

   "And have you decided which scholarship you're going to take advantage
of, Mr.  Williams?" Johnson shot a glance at Melissa before continuing.  "I
understand you did very well at the mid-term exams, but of course you
always do, my boy.  And I was so pleased to see how well Miss Carpenter
fared this year."

   "Y...  yes, sir," Trevor answered modestly, totally missing the thinly
veiled innuendo.  "I..I think my Dad and I have decided on Dartsmouth,
sir."

   "Ah, yes, Dartsmouth is a fine institution," Mr.  Johnson said, casually
looking in Melissa's direction.  Her eyes were wide and pleading.  "Aren't
you proud of your young man, Miss Carpenter?" he asked.

   He'd caught the lovely teenager completely off guard, and Johnson
relished the sight of her attempt to "shift gears" and smile for her
boyfriend.

   "Y...yes, sir, Mr.  Johnson," Melissa stammered in reply.

   Ben Johnson wondered if anyone besides himself thought it rather odd
that she didn't move to her boyfriend's side and congratulate him. 
Instead, Melissa remained in the same spot she'd occupied since she entered
the library, close to one of the tall book cases with her back to the wall.


   After a brief but uncomfortable silence, the high school teacher spoke
up.  "Where are my manners," he said.  "I haven't offered anyone a drink.
What'll you have, Trevor?" Ben Johnson asked the honor roll student.

   "I...I..." Trevor stuttered, thinking at first that he was being offered
alcohol.  Trevor Williams had never touched a drop.

   Benjamin Johnson smiled at the naivete of the young man and offered,
"Coke?  Ginger Ale?"

   "C..coke will be fine, sir," Trevor replied sheepishly.

   "And for you, my dear?" Johnson asked, turning toward Melissa.

   "N..nothing, thanks," Melissa said, trying to be polite.

   "Noting at all?" Johnson pressed, raising his eyebrows.

   Melissa shook her head, saying, "I'm not thirsty right now." Then she
added, "Do you have a bathroom I can use, Mr.  Johnson?"

   Smiling broadly, Ben Johnson walked to the lovely teen and placed an arm
around her, feigning affection.  He felt her cringe beneath the weight of
his arm as he said, "Why of course, my child.  You should have said
something earlier.  No sense waiting until it becomes an emergency," he
added with a wry smile.  Then turning Melissa toward the door, Ben Johnson
looked back at Trevor and said, "You wait right here, young man, while I
show your pretty girl to the powder room, and then I'll be back with your
drink in a jiffy."

   No sooner than the two of them were alone in the front hall, Mr. 
Johnson dropped his hand from Melissa's shoulder as they walked and placed
it onto her shapely rear end.  Melissa tried to escape by pretending not to
notice and then walking a little faster, but to no avail.

   "Not so fast, young lady," Johnson said, taking her by her shoulder with
his free hand and stopping her in her tracks.  Meanwhile with his other
hand, he brushed the sweater aside and spread his fingers and palm out onto
the firm surface of Melissa's left buttock.  Her cotton dress was still
slightly damp to the touch as he kneaded her supple flesh for a moment,
before removing his hand.

   Melissa kept her eyes on the floor and said a silent prayer that maybe,
just maybe her history teacher wouldn't notice anything unusual.

   "It appears that we've had a little accident, Miss Carpenter," Mr. 
Johnson said after a moment, shattering her hopes.  "I hope that you'll
tell me all about it later," he murmured to the distraught teenager.  "But
first we have a more important matter to attend to," he added.  "Come with
me, please, my dear," her history teacher said, taking Melissa by the hand
and leading her farther down the hall and around a corner.

   "This'll be fine," Ben Johnson said, stopping the lovely girl in the
hallway outside of the door to the downstairs bath.

   "But Mr.  Johnson, wait, I..." she pleaded as he turned her to face the
wall.

   "Now be still, Miss Carpenter.  We wouldn't want young Trevor to hear,
now would we," he cautioned as he reached around her slender waist and
untied the sleeves of her boyfriend's letter sweater.  After unwrapping the
sweater from around her, Johnson hung it over his right shoulder for the
time being.

   'Please, don't, Mr.  Johnson," the exquisite young girl whimpered,
looking back at him over her shoulder while he deftly hoisted the hem of
her dress up to mid-thigh.

   "Hush, my child," Benjamin said a little gruffly as he reached up under
Melissa's dress and between her legs.  "Were we a good girl?" the older man
murmured from close behind her right ear as he ran the palm of his hand up
the satin smooth skin of Melissa's inner thigh.  Then just as he felt the
swelling of her magnificent derriere the edge of his hand bumped into
something hard and artificial.

   Melissa shuddered when she felt her history teacher start to finger the
object imbedded in her rear end.  "I'm happy to see that you followed my
instructions, my dear," he whispered as he pressed his body against hers,
pushing her against the wall.  "But I do insist that you not wear underwear
in the future when you come to visit." Through her damp cotton panties, Ben
Johnson grasped the sides of the rounded rectangular flange that
represented the external portion of the imbedded device.  After kissing the
lovely girl on the side of her slender neck, Ben murmured with his lips
still pressed against her fragrant skin, "Do you need to use the bathroom,
sweetheart?" He felt her body stiffen when he twisted the end of the anal
plug a little.  "Tell me you need to go, and I'll take it out, Melissa," he
said then nibbled at her ear lobe, causing her to shiver.

   "Mr.  Johnson.  Oh please, Mr.  Johnson," the lovely blond cried a
little too loudly when he tugged teasingly at the end of her plug.

   "Not so loud, sweetheart," he whispered.  "I don't think Trevor would
understand or approve," he added with a little chuckle.  "Last chance, baby
girl.  Tell me that you need to go, and I'll take it out.  I promise."

   "I...I..," Melissa began and then nodded her head reluctantly.

   'No, Melissa.  I want you to tell me," her teacher corrected her.

   Melissa couldn't remember having been this embarrassed in a long, long
time.  It was like some kind of a nightmare she thought as she felt her
history teacher twist the wicked thing inside of her, causing her tummy to
flex slightly.  Until now, Melissa hadn't realized just how badly she
really did need to use the bathroom, since the anal appliance made her feel
kind of that way all the time.  But now that Mr.  Johnson had altered its
placement ever so slightly, Melissa felt the telltale cramping begin
farther up her rectal track.

   "Tell me that you have to go to the bathroom, Melissa," her teacher
prompted.  "Tell me, sweetheart.  Tell me, Melissa."

   Ben could feel through the external flange of the device when the young
girl clamped down on the embedded portion.  "It won't be long now.  She
definitely has to go," Ben concluded from the noticeable increase in her
muscle activity.

   "Tell me you have to go, Melissa," he said more forcefully.

   "I...I...I need," she began and then hesitated.

   Reaching over her shoulder, Mr.  Johnson took the girl gently by the
chin and turned her face more toward his.  Locking eyes with her he then
mouthed the words, "Tell me."

   Her expression was a symphony of anguish and humiliation when at last
Miss Melissa Carpenter said to her American History teacher, "I..  I need
to use the b...bathroom, Mr.  Johnson." Her eyes were wide and pleading,
and the way that she bit her lower lip was priceless.  Ben Johnson fell in
love with her all over again as he placed the palm of his hand against her
cheek and caressed her soft skin with his thumb.  "OK, sweetheart," he said
with a warm smile, then looked on in wonder as her big blue eyes glazed
over and turned inward when he slowly extracted the anal plug from her
supple interior.  Ben was pleased to feel Melissa's muscles clutch and tug
at the device until it finally pulled free of her.

   "There we are, my child," Ben Johnson said as he fumbled briefly inside
Melissa's panties to retrieve the little torpedo.  At last he held it up
beside her shoulder so she could get a good look at it, before he dropped
it into the pocket of his trousers.  "You can go ahead and use the bathroom
now, Melissa, and when you're finished, please leave the panties in the
hamper beside the tub.  I'll take care of them later," he said with a wink.
"I've got to go and fetch a drink for your beau," the man added casually
then turned and walked away as though nothing at all out of the ordinary
had happened.

   "Ah, there you are, Miss Carpenter," Ben Johnson said affectionately. 
"Trevor and I were beginning to worry about you.  Weren't we Trevor?" he
said clapping the young man on the back good naturedly.

   Trevor nodded dumbly in response and then smiled at his pretty
girlfriend as she reentered the library.  He took one last swallow of his
coke and set the empty glass aside, before asking Melissa if she was
feeling better.  Melissa replied that she was, and stood for a moment
nervously smoothing her dress down around her hips.  She'd dispensed with
the sweater, since her dress had dried enough so the embarrassing wet spot
was no longer noticeable, and now only she and her history teacher knew
that beneath that slightly soiled sun dress, Melissa Carpenter wore nothing
at all.  Melissa felt terribly exposed and declined a seat on the sofa when
her history teacher offered it.  The three of them pretended to carry on a
conversation for the next ten minutes or so, until from the back of the
house, presumably from the kitchen, a timer bell rang.

   "Ah, there's dinner," Mr.  Johnson said happily and got up from where he
and Trevor were seated on the couch.  "I hope everybody is hungry," he said
and stepped beside Melissa who stood beside the nearest book case.  "Surely
you're hungry, Miss Carpenter.  After all, a young lady your age needs to
keep her strength up.  No telling what she might be called upon to do,"
Melissa's history teacher added with a wry smile and put his arm around
her.

   Melissa shot the man a nervous look, feeling that his insinuations were
becoming a bit too transparent, and that Trevor would surely suspect that
something was amiss.  But when she looked over at her young beau, he didn't
look too well.  In fact, Melissa had failed to notice that Trevor had been
unusually quiet for several minutes now.

   "Ready to eat, Mr.  Williams?" Ben Johnson asked.

   The young athlete looked up at his former teacher with an expression of
deep concern on his handsome face.  Then without warning, Trevor clapped a
hand over his mouth and heaved violently.

   "Are you alright, son?" Mr.  Johnson inquired, knowing full well that he
was not.

   After one more heave, Trevor Williams launched himself from the sofa and
staggered from the library, heading off down the back hall.  Soon the
sounds of retching could be heard from the back of the house.

   Melissa stood stunned, not knowing what to do.  "Wha...what's wrong with
Trevor?" she cried when at last she found her voice.

   "Now don't you worry about your young man, sweetheart.  I guess
something he ate doesn't agree with Mr.  Williams, but he'll be just fine
in about an hour.  I promise," he told her and then gave her a hug. 
"Sadly, though, I think our little dinner party is over," Ben Johnson added
as more violent heaving sounds came from the back hall bathroom.  "Tell you
what, my dear, let's you and I go upstairs and get you settled, then I'll
see if Trevor is capable of driving home.  Naturally, I'll offer to take
you home when we're finished studying," he added with a wink.

   "W..what do you mean?" Melissa asked as she tried to shrug his arm from
around her shoulders.

   "How quickly we forget our responsibilities," Mr.  Johnson said, faking
exasperation.  Then taking her by the hand, he turned her toward the door.

   "Bu..but, w..wait, Mr.  Johnson," Melissa said, her voice filled with
alarm.  She tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but he held her fast. 
"Wha..what about, Trevor?" Another retching sound came from the back of the
house.

   "You just let me worry about Mr.  Williams, young lady," the older man
said sternly as he pulled her toward the wide staircase.  "I don't think
he's going to feel much like hanging around, so I'll just send him on home,
then you and I can get on with our tutoring.  I doubt that your beau would
have appreciated my lesson plan anyway," Ben Johnson chuckled as he mounted
the first stair with Melissa in tow.

   Originally he'd considered bringing the young man into the fold, so to
speak.  Using the fact that Trevor had stolen confidential material from
his office as incentive, the middle age history teacher planned to have him
watch while he bedded his pretty girlfriend.  And perhaps he still would at
a later date, but the moment the lovely young girl had appeared on his door
step, Johnson decided that this evening belonged to just the two of them.

   It was a rather unremarkable bedroom that Melissa found herself in. 
Seated on the edge of the queen size bed, she cast her gaze about and wrung
her hands nervously.  Through the partially open door, she heard muted
voices from downstairs.  Then moments later Melissa heard the front door
close.  She was alone, but not for long.

   "Your young man is already feeling better, my dear," Ben Johnson said,
entering his bedroom.  What a lovely sight she was, seated on his bed. 
"How long he'd waited for this day," he sighed contentedly.

   "Trevor asked me to say goodbye for him, and that he'd see you tomorrow
at school.  He also expressed how sorry he was that he wouldn't be able to
join us this evening.  Maybe some other time," Johnson added with a wink
when he noticed the dubious look on Melissa's face.  "Well," he said,
glancing at his wristwatch after a moment of heavy silence.  "It looks like
we have plenty of time, my dear," Johnson said as he stepped toward her. 
Holding out his hands to her he offered, "So why don't you hop off the bed,
and we'll start by getting you out of those soiled things." Ben Johnson
couldn't suppress a grin when the pretty teenager gave him an absolutely
incredulous look.  "No stalling now, Miss Carpenter," the man added after a
moment of hesitation on Melissa's part, during which time her expression
changed from incredulity to one of undisguised hatred.

   "Haven't you gotten what you want already!" Melissa hissed venomously
and tried to pull away when her history teacher reached out and took her by
her wrists.

   "Oh, my goodness gracious no, my child," the older man chuckled as he
pulled her off the bed.  "Why there's a whole world of wondrous delights
just waiting to be discovered.  Most young ladies your age are forced await
fulfillment, often for years, while their silly young boyfriends make their
clumsy attempts to please.  You, on the other hand, my dear girl, are
fortunate enough to have me for a mentor and guide, and together we'll
continue on our journey of discovery." With that Johnson pulled her quickly
toward himself.

   Caught completely off guard, Melissa found herself standing nose to nose
with her history teacher, her young body pressed against his.  "Nnn...!"
the pretty fifteen year old hissed and turned her head quickly to the side
when the older man tried to kiss her.  Next Melissa felt his arms encircle
her waist and his fingers begin to fumble at her hips seeking to grasp the
fabric of her sun dress.

   Ben enjoyed it to a degree when she fought him.  He liked the feel of
her supple body moving against his, so he allowed her struggle a bit while
he went about tugging her cotton dress up over her shapely hips.

   Since she'd been relieved of her panties earlier, Melissa immediately
detected a draft and realized that she was exposed.  "Stopppp," she whined
as her efforts to escape crumbled.

   "Alright, that's enough, Miss Carpenter!" Ben Johnson barked, losing
patience with the headstrong teen.  "Raise your hands up over your head and
be quick about it," he ordered in no uncertain terms.

   Momentarily stunned by the harsh tone of voice her history teacher had
adopted, Melissa ceased her struggles and gaped at him in disbelief.  Then
slowly she raised her hands.

   "I suggest you stop this nonsense and save your energy, my dear,"
Johnson muttered as he hauled Melissa's dress up and over her head. 
"There, that's much better," he said, dropping the slightly damp sun dress
to the floor at the girl's feet.  He smiled at the lovely teenager's
efforts to conceal her nudity, noting how the blush of color that flashed
in her neck and cheeks tended to enhance her image of innocence.

   Melissa was mortified, because for reasons she could not begin to fathom
she'd elected not to wear a bra this evening.  Therefore for the second
time in as many days she found herself totally naked in the company of her
American History teacher.

   "Come, my dear.  We should get you cleaned up a little after your
accident," Ben murmured in a more kindly tone of voice.  At first she tried
to shrink away when he reached for her, but after a sharp look from him,
the unhappy girl allowed Johnson to place his arm around her shoulders and
lead her toward the bathroom.

   Melissa was rather confused and anxious, but she brightened a bit at the
thought of a warm bath.  She felt decidedly filthy, and besides, if she
took her time, perhaps whatever Mr.  Johnson had planned for her wouldn't
last as long.  If she was able to relax, she might even come up with a way
to get out of this mess.

   "Step over here, Melissa," her teacher instructed her, pointing toward
the wash basin set into a granite topped vanity.

   "But..." she started to argue as she looked longingly in the direction
of the oversized sunken bathtub.  "Can't I please take a bath, Mr. 
Johnson," she pleaded.  "I feel so dirty," she whined as he shepherded her
away from the tub.

   "No time for that, my dear," Johnson told her.  "But don't you worry
your pretty little head, because Ben's gonna give his special girl a nice
sponge bath."

   "What!" Melissa gasped and tried to pull away from him.

   "No nonsense now, Miss Carpenter!" Mr.  Johnson snapped as he took her
by the wrist and pulled her toward the sink.  Then placing his hands onto
her shoulders, he faced her toward to large triple mirror on the wall above
the basin.  "My, my, we do make a handsome couple, don't we, Melissa," Ben
Johnson commented happily as he gazed at their reflections.  Melissa
glanced up briefly, frowned and then looked away.  "I expect for you to
cooperate with me, Melissa," her history teacher told her as he reached out
and turned on the tap.  "Mind what I tell you, and we'll get along just
fine, my dear" he said, adjusting the temperature of the water and reaching
for a wash cloth.  "Cause trouble, and as sure as the sun rises, your young
beau will be flipping hamburgers for a living rather than attending
university.  Do I make myself clear, Melissa?" Ben Johnson asked, staring
at her reflection in the mirror.  "Look at me, and answer my question,
young lady!" he ordered when she hesitated.

   Her expression was precious.  With a look of unmistakable hatred mixed
with just the right amount of submissive trepidation, Melissa glared at her
history teacher in the bathroom mirror.

   "Well?" Johnson pressed.

   "Alright, I understand," the lovely teenager hissed under her breath
then looked away again.

   "Very well, then.  That's better," the older man said as he held the
wash cloth under the running water.  "Move your feet apart for me please,
Melissa," Ben Johnson instructed the unhappy girl.  "A little wider,
please" he added then tapped at the inside of her left ankle with his shoe.

   "Oww," Melissa whined softly as she moved her foot to the side until she
stood with her feet spread just beyond shoulder width.

   "That's my girl," Ben murmured from just behind her right ear as he
placed his free hand onto her right hip and shifted the dripping wash cloth
behind her.  "Now just hold nice and still for me, sweetheart," Ben cooed,
watching her reflection closely as without warning, he slid his hand
between the girl's shapely thighs and then pressed the warm, wet cloth
upward and against her.

   "Nnnnn..." the startled teenager squealed and quickly pressed her thighs
together, trapping his hand between them.

   "Now be nice, Melissa," Ben Johnson cautioned the girl.  "Spread your
legs, and let me wash you.  Heck, I should think this would feel rather
nice," he added almost casually.  He looked up just in time to catch her
staring at him in the mirror with a precious and troubled expression on her
pretty face.  "Do as I tell you, Melissa," he said more sternly when she
hesitated.

   "Ohhh," she whined.  "Please, Mr.  Johnson," she pleaded despondently.

   "Hush now, my child," Ben Johnson murmured as the luscious teenager once
again spread her legs for him.  "Let Mr.  Johnson get you all fresh and
clean," he said in a hoarse whisper as he began to move the damp cloth
slowly back and forth between her trembling thighs.  He steadied Melissa
with a hand on her right hip as he went about cleansing her most private
areas.  Nothing escaped his intimate touch, and the young girl squirmed in
his hands as he pressed and prodded with his finger through the terry
cloth.

   "Stoppppp," Melissa groaned between clenched teeth, and she rose up onto
the balls of her feet when Ben pushed firmly upward against her puckered
little anus.

   When at last he was finished, Melissa stood literally trembling with
abhorrence and humiliation.  Never in all her fifteen years had she ever
felt so thoroughly violated and debased.  After toweling her dry, her
history teacher escorted the unhappy teen back into his bedroom, but rather
than leading her to the bed like Melissa was expecting, Mr.  Johnson
directed her to his big maple wood desk, where he left her standing
uncomfortably while he took a seat in the padded leather chair.  Then
without a word, the older man turned away from Melissa and opened a lower
desk drawer.

   Melissa stood shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she eyed
her teacher warily.  She had no idea what he was up to as she watched him
remove a small black leather case from the desk drawer.  After placing the
case on the desk blotter, he next retrieved a smallish glass bottle filled
with clear liquid.  It was an oddly shaped, squat little vial with a
slender neck and what looked like a rubber stopper in the end.  Melissa
thought she'd seen such a container before, but she couldn't remember where
or when.  Additionally, she was entirely too preoccupied, worrying about
what wickedness her history teacher had in store for her.

   Setting the bottle on the desk top next to the mysterious, leather case,
Mr.  Johnson turned and spoke to her at last.  "I want you to touch
yourself for me now, Melissa.  Just like you did in class yesterday.  Will
you do that for me, please," he said in a conversational tone of voice.

   Melissa was utterly astounded not only by his bluntness, but also by his
unmitigated gall and stood gaping at her teacher in shocked silence for
several seconds.  She was about to speak when Mr.  Johnson continued as
though he were discussing the weather.  "Make yourself wet for me, my dear.
Can you do that, do you think?" He looked up at the stunned teenager as if
his request was not at all unusual.  Then when she didn't answer him, Ben
added with a wry smile, "Of course if you need a little help, I can take
care of that."

   Turning back to his desk, Mr.  Johnson opened the top drawer.  "Perhaps
a little artificial lubricant might be in order," he said, placing a blue
and white tube which read "K-Y something or other" on its side near the
case and vial on his desk blotter.

   Melissa didn't answer.  She really didn't know what to say, as she tried
her best to return her history teacher's gaze with some small modicum of
courage.

   "Or maybe you need a little help concentrating, Melissa," Mr.  Johnson
offered, looking up at her with a peculiar expression on his face.

   Melissa was about to inquire what he meant, when her teacher
unexpectedly produced an object she recognized all too well.  In fact, the
very sight of it made her shiver involuntarily when Mr.  Johnson stood the
little anal appliance on end next to the other items on the desk top.

   "We both know that this is a real attention getter," Mr.  Johnson added
with a smile as he turned to face the uncomfortable teenager once more. 
"So what's it gonna be, young lady?" he queried.

   Melissa stood staring at her history teacher in silence for a long
while, and then she began to fidget nervously.  Then without warning Mr. 
Johnson reached out, grabbed her behind her left thigh and dragged her so
close that her legs brushed against his knees.  "Why don't I get you
started," he said, and before Melissa could even think to react, Ben
Johnson pinched a quantity of soft pubic down between his fingers and
tugged playfully.

   "Nnnn.." Melissa squeaked and immediately tried to pull away from him,
but he held her fast.  "Stppppp," she hissed unhappily when her history
teacher extended three fingers between her legs and pressed upward against
the resilient flesh of her sumptuous labia majora.

   "Hush, Melissa, and hold still!" Ben Johnson cautioned the distressed
young beauty as he slowly worked his middle finger between her plump outer
lips.  "You ought to be used to my touch by now, considering what close
friends we've become," he added with a wicked little laugh.  Instinctively
she tried to retreat from his exploring finger, but Ben was persistent, and
as he probed deeper between her supple folds, a smile slowly spread across
his face.  "That's my girl," Ben murmured as his finger tip slid
effortlessly into a world of rich and silky moisture.  Melissa felt it at
the same time, and her expression of dismay clearly portrayed the fact that
she knew she was getting wet.

   "Why can't I control my own body!" she silently berated herself.  Then
as she felt her history teacher's finger tip glide smoothly over her inner
folds her mind wandered.  "It had to be the thing in the bathroom," she
concluded in self-defense.  "Ohhh!" Melissa moaned out loud before she
realized it.

   "That's right, Melissa," Mr.  Johnson cooed.  "My little girl likes it,
doesn't she.  Yeah," he purred, gazing up at the troubled teen.

   "Nnnnno," Melissa whimpered and shook her head miserably.

   "Now let's not tell fibs," Johnson countered, toying with the girl. 
"Ben can tell when his special girl is happy," he went on, as he slowly
extracted his fingers from between Melissa's thighs.  "You can't fool me,
sweetheart," he chuckled as he held up his fingers and rubbed them together
in front of her.  Melissa groaned audibly as she watched his fingers slide
together, coated with silken fluids of her own making.  "Now you just go
ahead and touch yourself like a good girl and keep yourself all nice and
wet for me, Melissa, darling," Ben Johnson told the unhappy girl.  Staring
deep into her eyes, he willed her to cooperate, and sure enough, her right
hand began to inch toward the juncture of her thighs.  "That's a good
girl," Ben murmured as he took her hand and guided it to its target.  "Just
make yourself nice and wet down there, and I'm going to fix us a nice
surprise," he whispered as he released her hand.

   Ben waited for a second, watching while she slowly slid her fingers into
her pubic curls and gently cupped herself, then he turned to the desk.

   When she first saw the hypodermic syringes, Melissa assumed that her
American History teacher must be an insulin dependant diabetic.  She
watched distractedly while Mr.  Johnson opened the small zippered case and
removed one of the glass syringes from beneath its retaining band.  Melissa
continued to rub herself very slowly while her teacher fitted one of the
shining needles from his kit onto the end of the syringe.

   "How're we doing?" Ben asked with a knowing smile, nodding toward
Melissa's hand between her legs.  She blushed hotly and averted her gaze,
but didn't remove her hand.

   Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and Melissa's eyes were
drawn back to the goings on at the desk.  Now she remembered where she'd
seen a bottle like the one her teacher held in his hand at the doctor's
office.  Ben caught the girl watching and gave her a wink, then returned
his attention to the business at hand.  When the 3cc hypodermic was nearly
full, he carefully pulled the needle from the rubber gland at the neck of
the vial containing a very potent, clinical grade of cocaine hydroxide. 
Holding the syringe up to the light, Ben thumped on the side of the small
graduated cylinder with his index finger in order to dislodge any air
bubbles which might have adhered to the inside of the barrel.  Next he
grasped the end of the glass plunger of the device and very carefully
advanced it just enough to expel to one or two tiny bubbles of air,
stopping when a shining droplet of clear liquid swelled at the beveled tip
of the hypodermic needle.

   "It won't be long now, my child," he said to Melissa and placed the
syringe carefully onto the desk.

   Melissa thought it was rather strange that Mr.  Johnson would prepare
two insulin shots for himself, but not knowing a thing about diabetes, she
figured he must need it.  Anyway, the longer he played around with his
medications, the longer it would be before she would be expected to do
anything with him.  Melissa knew there was no getting around the fact that
she was going to have to allow the man to have his way with her again, and
she only hoped it wouldn't take too long, and that he wouldn't ask her to
do anything weird.

   Melissa started when she felt his hands on her hips.  She'd been
daydreaming in that muzzy place girls go when they begin to get aroused,
and before she knew it, her history teacher had turned her around so that
her back was to him.  "Mmm..mmm," Melissa complained softly when he slid
the blade of his right hand between her legs from behind and began to rub
her with a slow sawing motion.

   "Is my little girl nice and wet for me?" Ben cooed in a patronizing
voice.

   Before she could stop herself Melissa nodded her head.

   "That's nice..  That's nice," he repeated as he allowed the edge of his
index finger to trace slowly upward between her shapely buttocks.  The edge
of his hand came away wet, as Ben stood up behind Melissa, unbuckled his
trousers and let them drop to the floor.

   Feeling his body close behind her, Melissa gazed back at him
apprehensively from over her right shoulder.  Then when he smiled at her,
she turned away, nervous and embarrassed.  She looked divine.

   "Just keep touching yourself down there, sweetheart," Ben whispered from
just behind her ear as he slid his hands under her arms and around her
slender body.  She trembled delightfully in his arms when he cupped her
perky little breasts and began to kneed the supple flesh affectionately. 
"Are you all ready for me, Melissa, darling?" he murmured with his lips
pressed softly against the side of her neck.  "Are you ready to make love,
baby?" he whispered then kissed her two or three times on her neck and
shoulders.

   "Mmmm," Melissa moaned unconsciously when he pinched her nipples between
his fingers and rolled the hard little nubbins from side to side.  Then she
felt him press himself against her backside, hard and hot.

   "I think you're all ready for Benjamin, honey," he said and lowered
himself back into his desk chair.  As he did, he released her breasts and
allowed his hands to slide down her flanks until they came to rest upon her
flaring hips.  "Why don't you just sit back, Melissa.  Just have a seat in
Uncle Ben's lap," he told the slightly befuddled teenager.  Then after
spreading his knees apart he began to pull her down.

   Hands on her knees, Melissa leaned forward slightly then allowed herself
to be guided back and downward.  She jumped in surprise and gasped when she
first felt the smooth, hot tip of Mr.  Johnson's manhood touch her, but he
held her steady and continued to draw inexorably down.  "W...wait," she
cried breathlessly.  Her history teacher suddenly felt much bigger than he
had only yesterday as she felt herself begin to stretch around him. 
"Nnnn.." she groaned as the man abruptly popped into her.  Melissa's hands
flew to the arms of the desk chair in an effort to support her weight and
slow his ingress, but much to her dismay, in that same instant she lost her
footing and then her balance.  Additionally, Mr.  Johnson continued to pull
down on her hips, such that the unhappy teenager could not support herself
using her arms alone.  As a result, Melissa suddenly fell backward and down
into her history teacher's lap, thrusting herself onto him with the entire
weight of her falling body.  A most pleasing and visceral grunt escaped the
girl, and had he been able to see her face, Ben Johnson would have seen a
look of pure, wide eyed astonishment portrayed there.

   Ben would never cease to be amazed at just how exquisite this adorable
girl truly was, as with a groan of his own, he slid into the immaculate
snugness of Miss Melissa Carpenter.  Like he had during his initial
introduction to this wonderful child woman, Ben met with the perfect amount
of resistance.  Her nubile internal musculature put up just enough of a
fight as he intruded into the cradle of her womanhood, to make Ben feel
that indeed he'd taken her.  Then as her femininity dilated and adjusted to
his presence, Ben quickly decided that he never wanted to leave the hot,
clutching confines of the lovely Miss Carpenter.

   As Melissa's shapely rear end landed on the tops of his thighs, Ben felt
something shift deep inside of the lovely girl, and the head of his manhood
immediately moved into the new space she'd provided.  Ben was convinced
that he had just found a place inside of Melissa Carpenter that no one had
ever visited before, and he felt happy and fulfilled.

   Speaking of fulfilled, Melissa was experiencing difficulty breathing
because of the upward thrusting force seemingly exerted directly upon her
diaphragm by her loving history teacher.  Picturing herself seated impaled
atop a flagpole, she started to struggle.  Melissa felt his arms encircle
her mid-section, preventing her from moving to alleviate the abdominal
pressure as a stuttering groan escaped her lips, and a powerful tremor
wracked her body.

   "Easy, Melissa, honey," Mr.  Johnson soothed.  "Just relax and let your
body adjust.  After all, it's not like we're total strangers," he added
with his customary wicked chuckle.

   "Buhhh...hut, I c...can't breathe," Melissa gasped, feeling her history
teacher's penis at the back of her throat.

   "OK, then, my dear," Ben Johnson responded after a moment.  "We wouldn't
want to make you uncomfortable," he said sarcastically.  "Why don't you
stand up, and we'll switch to a more suitable position, one we can both
enjoy," he instructed as he slid his hands under her and lifted upward on
pert little rear end.  Ben helped Melissa to regain her feet, and as she
stood his manhood popped out of her with an audible sucking sound.

   Rising from his chair, Mr.  Johnson turned the lovely blond to face him.
She gazed up at him curiously as he took her by the shoulders and slowly
backed her up against the edge of his big desk.  "We seem to have a thing
for desks, Melissa," he said with a wry smile.  "Why don't you hop up and
have a seat," he instructed as she frowned at his reference to their
liaison at school yesterday.

   "But..." she began to argue.

   "Here, let me help you, my dear," Ben said, interrupting her.  She was
as light as a feather as he caught her under her arms, lifted her up and
plopped her down on top of the desk.  "There we are, that's much better,
don't you think," he said as he placed his hands on Melissa's knees, spread
them apart and stepped up between her legs.  "Scoot this way a little, if
you would please, my dear" Ben directed, and reaching out, he took her by
the hips and coaxed her toward the edge of the desk.  "There now, that
should be just fine," he said looking the girl in the eye.  She returned
his gaze warily.  "Tell me, Melissa," Ben Johnson began again in a
conversational tone of voice.  "Now that you're sexually active, my dear,"
he went on, smiling at the incensed look she gave him.  "Have you given any
consideration to taking a lover, other than me, of course?" he asked
casually.  Meanwhile, Ben grasped his fully erect penis in his right hand.
Then as he continued to speak in an even tone of voice, and without the
slightest hint or warning, he directed the head of his cock between
Melissa's outer labia.

   She was positioned at just the right height such that with one forward
thrust of his hips, Ben re-entered the startled young girl with ease. 
Before Melissa realized what was happening, he was in her, and even as the
stunned awareness dawned upon her face, Melissa's history teacher propelled
himself deep into her vagina, causing her to rock her head back and gasp in
surprise.

   "I'd be willing to bet that Mr.  Williams would like to spend a little
time in the sack with you, Melissa." The shocked expression on her face was
utterly priceless, and Ben Johnson could barely suppress a laugh.  "Now
what kind of a look is that, my dear?" he asked as he slowly extracted all
but a couple of inches of himself from the immaculate teenager.

   Melissa was too stunned to speak.  Staring down between her legs she
watched in shocked silence for a moment as her history teacher delivered
two or three short "testing" strokes.  Then looking back up at the wicked
older man, a sense of loathing came over Melissa that she hadn't
experienced before until that moment, and was just about to open her mouth
and launch into a diatribe of unrivaled ferocity when Mr.  Johnson abruptly
slammed himself back into her.  "Huugggnn!" was all she could manage in
response.

   Ben Johnson had certainly noticed the change come over his young
partner, for her face darkened like the sky before an oncoming squall.  He
also felt her tense up, inside and out.  "Nothing like a good hard slammer
to get a girl's attention," Johnson thought gayly as he watched the unhappy
teenager's eyes snap open wide when the head of his cock hammered into her
cervix.  Then in that same enraging conversational tone of voice Ben said,
"You don't seem nearly as enthusiastic this evening as you were yesterday
afternoon, my dear." He began to get up a slow and steady rhythm while he
chatted casually to the astounded girl.  "In fact, I think maybe you might
need a little help, Melissa." He smiled ominously.

   "W...what do y..you mean?" she managed despite the fact that his cadence
was becoming increasingly more ardent.

   In answer to her question, Ben Johnson unexpectedly pulled out of
Melissa, leaving her blinking in surprise.  Without a word, he picked up
the tube of K-Y jelly and squeezed a healthy dollop into the palm of his
left hand.  In silence he stared directly into Melissa's eyes as he
proceeded to apply the lubricant to himself.  Then as before he entered her
without comment or warning.

   Her nostrils flared in reaction to his renewed presence, but the pretty
teenage managed not to make a sound this time.  "God, she feels good!" Mr.
Johnson groaned under his breath as he literally flowed into the young
girl. The added lubrication allowed him to feel every supple convulsion of
her untamed womanhood, and although it really wasn't necessary at the
moment, Ben knew that it would be welcomed by both of them as their love
making became more enthusiastic.  As he began a steady cadence, Mr. 
Johnson was pleased to see Melissa look down and become momentarily
mesmerized by the sight of his glistening shaft pistoning slowly in and out
of her body.

   "Pretty neat looking, don't you think, my dear?" Ben Johnson asked. 
Melissa looked up in surprise, and blushed hotly, embarrassed that he'd
caught her staring, and that she'd been looking in the first place.  She
gazed into his eyes for a moment, then looked away without comment.

   "Why don't you lie back on the desk for me, sweetheart," Melissa's
history teacher suggested, and tried to kiss her when she glanced his way.

   "Don't," Melissa said quietly and turned away.

   "Have it your way, my dear, but I have something here that I think will
change you mind," her teacher said.  "Lie back now, Melissa," he said,
smiling at the curious look she gave him as he helped her to recline on the
desk top.  Once she was down, he took her by her slender waist and pulled
her nearer the edge of the desk, at the same time pushing himself deeper
into the sweet girl.  "Comfortable?" he asked facetiously when he heard her
groan softly as the head of his cock nestled firmly against her cervix. 
God what a sight she was lying there before him so innocent and vulnerable.
Ben had to fight hard not to simply fuck her silly right then and there, as
he felt to his left beneath the center section of his desk and pressed the
button that activated the small Web-Cam that sat unnoticed just a few feet
away.

   Melissa refused to comment or to even look at the man.  She vowed to
herself that she would not participate this time.  She wouldn't give him
the pleasure.  Yesterday he'd caught her by surprise, but not this time. 
If he was going to have his way with her, then so be it, but he'd have to
do it all by himself.  "If he just wouldn't push so hard," Melissa thought
as she felt him deep down at her very center.

   "I have a special treat for us, this evening, my dear," Mr.  Johnson
said, breaking her concentration.  "It's kind of illegal, but I know you
won't tell on me," he added with a chuckle.  Melissa looked up at him, her
curiosity getting the better of her, just as he slipped the piece of latex
tubing around her arm immediately above her elbow and pulled it tight.

   "What're you d......" Melissa started to ask, but her history teacher
cut her off.

   "Be still, my dear, and make a big fist for me," Ben instructed her.

   "B...but.." the girl stammered fearfully.

   "Do it, Miss Carpenter!  Make a fist, now!" Johnson snapped, startling
her.

   Smiling inwardly, Ben Johnson swabbed the inside of her elbow with an
alcohol wipe when he saw her obey him.  Almost instantly two sizeable blue
veins rose proudly beneath her pale skin.

   "But, Mr.  Johnson, I...  I mean I've never, I...  Please don't hurt me,
Mr.  Johnson," Melissa whined pitifully when her history teacher picked up
one of the slender glass hypodermics.  Her blue eyes were wide with near
panic as he moved the shining beveled tip of the needle closer to her
outstretched arm.  "Don't, please, don't, Mr.  Johnson," Melissa sobbed and
tried to pull her arm from his grasp.

   "Hold still, Melissa," Johnson ordered.  "If you move, I very well might
hurt you," he added for effect.  That did the trick.  Melissa froze in pure
terror.  "One little prick," Ben murmured in concentration as he pressed
the sharp needle against her skin over one bulging blue vein.

   "Ow," Melissa squeaked as the tiny needle passed through her tender skin
like warm butter.

   "Oh, be still," Ben scolded.  "You know that didn't hurt." Her face was
a mask of fear as she glanced quickly from his face to the syringe in his
hand then back to his face.  "Just hold real still for me for one more
minute, sweetheart, and we'll be done here before you know it," Johnson
said softly as he felt the momentary resistance of the vein wall, before it
too fell to the advancing hypodermic.

   "B..  But what're you....?"

   "Almost there," he muttered, ignoring her concern as he slid the short
needle all the way into her flesh.  "You can relax your fist now, Melissa,"
Ben Johnson said, smiling down at the distraught teenager.  "Hold still
now," he added when Melissa squirmed beneath him.  Again she froze.  "Just
one more second," Ben whispered as he tugged gently on the plunger of the
syringe.  A smile spread across his face when he noted a tiny plume of
bright red blood jet into the glass barrel of the syringe, turning its
contents a light shade of pink.  He was in.

   Ben had used a good bit of cocaine in his time, but had always sniffed
or snorted the drug in its powdered form.  Someone had told him recently,
however, that taken intravenously, the effects of the drug were a hundred
times more powerful.  Ben had always been nervous about needles in general,
so he'd thought long and hard before deciding to give it a try.  The guy
he'd purchased the drugs and paraphernalia from had written down some
abbreviated instructions for him, and assured him that it wasn't difficult,
but he was pretty nervous, none the less.  In fact he performed his first
intravenous injection only yesterday on himself for practice.  All had gone
very well, and whoever it was who'd told him it was better that way had
been right on the money.  Ben couldn't wait to share his discovery with his
new found love.

   "So far, so good," he muttered under his breath as he depressed the
plunger and watched as approximately half of the powerful stimulant drug
disappeared into Melissa's arm.

   Melissa gazed up at him fearfully from the desktop and started to say
something when suddenly a queer little expression flashed upon her pretty
face.

   "That's a good girl, Melissa, darling," Johnson murmured as he pulled
out on the syringe plunger again.  "One more minute, and then you and I are
going to have the time of our life," Ben spoke softly as he watched the
barrel of the hypodermic slowly fill with dark red blood.

   "Wha??" the lovely teenager said a bit breathlessly.  Ben Johnson knew
that in spite of the tourniquet which prevented the bulk of the powerful
drug from entering Melissa's circulatory system, a small quantity had
obviously slipped through, and she was beginning to feel its effects.

   "Shh...shh...shh, Melissa," Ben whispered.  The syringe was full again
with a mixture of her blood and the remaining cocaine.  Holding the barrel
of the hypodermic tightly, Ben reached out and carefully tugged at the
latex tourniquet, leaving it hanging loosely around her biceps.  Then with
one fluid motion, Ben Johnson advanced the glass plunger and watched the
blood/cocaine mixture disappear ahead of its black rubber tip.

   Ben knew he'd have to move quickly.  Even as he carefully pulled the
shining needle from her flesh, the powerful drug coursed through the girl's
system on its way to the pleasure centers of her brain.  Unconsciously he
swabbed the inside of her elbow with an alcohol wipe then used the same
wipe to sterilize himself.  Suddenly a powerful tremor passed through the
girl, inside and out.  Quickly Ben snatched up the second syringe and
without bothering to apply a tourniquet, he pumped his fist rapidly.

   "Wha..  What..  Oh, m..my Goddddd!" his lovely teenage partner gasped.

   "Thank God," Ben muttered to himself when he hit the vein on the first
try.  Melissa was becoming more animated with each passing second as
Johnson injected the entire contents of the hypodermic into his arm as
quickly as he dared.  With no tourniquet in place, he knew he had only
seconds before the headlong rush into pleasures beyond imagination started.
He literally tossed the syringe aside and then, being a cleanly man, he
took a second to dab at the tiny drop of blood that formed in the crotch of
his elbow over the injection site with an alcohol wipe.

   Melissa's vision began to narrow as her teacher used the second syringe
on himself.  Then suddenly her universe exploded into a riotous hodgepodge
of sensory phenomena.  She felt her heart race.  "Oh, my God!" Melissa
gasped aloud.  Her own voice sounded tinny and distant.  "What..  Wha..?"
As her last coherent thoughts fled, Melissa saw her history teacher smiling
down at her from his position between her legs.  Then a feeling of power
and wholeness the likes of which Melissa had never before imagined filled
her to the roots of her being.

   That wasn't all that filled her, and as the powerful cocaine rush took
her, so did her loving history teacher.  The next hour and a half of
Melissa Carpenter's life can best be described as a medley of sensual
delights beyond anything she would have dreamed possible.

   "Oh, my dear girl!" Ben croaked as his own dosage took effect.  Through
the haze of his rush, Ben Johnson beheld the enchanting teenager lying
before him.  The expression on her face was one of unbridled wonder.  As he
reached down and grasped Melissa around her narrow waist, her young body
strong and supple in his big hands, Ben pulled her onto himself watching
his presence register in her facial expressions.  Ben suddenly felt his
testicles constrict from the effects of the powerful, stimulant drug. 
Melissa's blue eyes grew wide and round as he pressed himself against her
cervix, and her internal musculature squeezed reflexively.  Ben knew that a
brief period of relative flaccidity would soon occur, so he held himself
deep inside of the young beauty, allowing her to milk him reflexively.

   Shortly after her history teacher entered her, something in Melissa
Carpenter "clicked".  Held firmly in the grasp of the powerful cocaine that
her loving teacher had introduced directly into her circulatory system,
Melissa lost all inhibition and control.  She became a creature of instinct
and unbridled passion.  Her body sensed the male presence inside and
reacted accordingly, and for awhile Ben Johnson held still and let young
Melissa do all the fucking.  The enraptured teenager's hips soon began an
instinctive and powerful humping motion, and Ben had his hands full trying
to keep up with her.

   "That's it, Melissa.  Fuck me, baby.  Fuck me, Melissa!" her teacher
huffed as he allowed his pretty partner to have her way with him.  Reaching
down, he grabbed Melissa's muscular thighs and drew them up on either side
of his hips.  This served to better Ben's "angle of attack", allowing him
more complete involvement with his younger lover.

   After a few minutes, Ben felt his manhood begin to stiffen once again,
growing more generous by the second.  Melissa obviously felt it too,
because she began to groan with each thrust of her hips against him.  Ben
was in heaven.  After a few minutes he slowly pulled his hips back,
extracting himself from the tight confines of her birth canal.  Gazing down
at Melissa's sweet pussy, he marveled at the way her inner lips adhered to
his shaft, pulling outward, and causing a noticeable suction.  Then after a
short pause during which he delivered two or three shallow thrusts to the
young girl, Ben Johnson reentered his lovely young pupil fully with one
uniform thrust of his hips.  Ben would forever remember and relish the
sight of Melissa's muscular tummy bulging outward in response to his
ingress.

   "Huhhhhh..ohhhhhhh!" the beautiful teenager gasped.  Her eyes grew wide
and staring, as Melissa gazed sightlessly up at Ben.  The fact that she was
being taken against her will by her American History Teacher for the second
time in two days no longer mattered to the enraptured youngster.  Although
Melissa saw his face, smiling down at her where she lay upon his big wooden
desk, it simply didn't register.  Her entire being was focused on the
throbbing fullness in her belly.  Melissa sensed the head of her teacher's
penis pressing against her cervix and little else as Mr.  Johnson engaged
her utterly.

   Leaning down to her, Ben said, "Put your arms around my neck, Melissa."
It took a moment for his instructions to register with the enraptured
teenager, but then slowly she did as he asked.  "Hold on tight,
sweetheart," Ben murmured, his lips just inches from hers.  And with that,
the older man slowly rose up, pulling his lithe young lover along with him.
When she was seated upright in front of him on the very edge of his desk,
Ben took a moment to position her thighs around his hips and himself firmly
within her depths.  Then without further explanation, Ben slid his hands
beneath her firm little backside and picked her up.  Her nubile body was as
light as a feather in his arms, as he took a step back from the desk. 
Gazing into her big blue eyes, Ben allowed his sweet young student to
settle down onto himself.  Although Melissa was quite inexperienced, she
tended to be an intuitive lover, none the less, and as Ben continued to
stare into her eyes, he saw understanding begin to dawn.  "Oh my, Melissa,"
Ben said with a big smile when he felt her begin a kind of vaginal
calisthenics.  "Lock your ankles behind my back, Melissa," Ben instructed.

   "Huh?  Ohhhh!" Melissa was able to moan, staring at him in curious
wonder.  Then slowly she did as he asked.  Her expression could best be
described as one of enthusiastic resignation.

   Hugging her warm body tightly against his own, Benjamin Johnson began to
bounce the teenager on his fully erect manhood.  When she tried to move
with him, he whispered, "Just relax, sweetheart, and let Mr.  Johnson do
the work for now." Her firm little breasts rubbed up and down against his
hairy chest as he bounced her up and down rapidly for several minutes until
she began to gasp in time to his cadence.  Then slowly, Ben leaned over the
desk and deposited his aroused young lover onto its smooth surface.

   "I'm going to fuck you hard now, Melissa," Ben Johnson informed the
enchanting youngster.

   Her expression of angst was worth its weight in gold.  Ben began his
thrusts at a moderate pace, watching Melissa's face to gauge his progress.
He delivered three or four long, measured strokes to Melissa, and swore he
could feel every velvety fold of her convoluted interior as the head of his
penis cast aside her tender internal tissues.  Melissa closed her eyes and
rolled her head to one side.  Then as if perceiving from his developing
cadence that the real love making was starting, she opened her eyes and
gave him another apprehensive look.  Her blue eyes were round and filled
with astonishment, her pupils dilated from the coke which roared through
her being, causing every nerve ending in her body to sizzle with increased
sensitivity.

   "That's my girl," Ben murmured as he thrust his hips forward quickly.

   "Huhhh!" Melissa gasped, rocking her head back against the desk top.

   Mr.  Johnson gave his prize pupil three rapid thrusts, before returning
to his original pattern of long, slow forays into her depths.  When he
sensed her settling down to his rhythm again, Ben supplied Melissa with one
hard thrust followed by several rapid jabs.  In this manner, he maintained
control over their engagement, by keeping his young partner off balance. 
Increasing his pace slightly, Melissa moaned and closed her eyes in
response.

   "You like that don't you, Melissa?" Ben murmured.  "You like Mr. 
Johnson's big cock inside you, don't you, sweetheart.  Don't you?" The
fronts of his thighs began to slap against Melissa's bottom.  Melissa
rolled her head from side to side.  Joe jabbed her suddenly, causing her
blue eyes to snap open wide and staring.

   "Slap..slap..slap..slap..slap.." The bedroom resounded with the fleshy
sounds of thigh on buttock.

   "Pay attention, Melissa," Ben suddenly demanded.  "Squeeze me, baby. 
Fuck me back, Melissa."

   Melissa's expression registered puzzlement and incredulity, but she was
unable to respond verbally.  The young teen was simply too far gone to
argue or resist.  Her entire world lay between her quivering thighs with
her teacher's thrusting penis at its epicenter.  Melissa knew only
alternating periods of fullness, then emptiness, then fullness again.

   Slowly and almost imperceptibly, a tide was rising inside of Melissa
Carpenter.  Although she'd made love to her history teacher just yesterday,
orgasm had evaded her, so the sensations that were ever so slowly building
up inside of the enraptured teenager were of a relatively unfamiliar
nature. The powerful cocaine she'd been given mixed with her ever
increasing ardor, held Melissa in a kind of dream world, suspended between
the reality of being taken again by her American History teacher, and the
inexplicable new sensations that filled both her mind and body.

   Judging from the distinct rosy glow that spread up his lovely partner's
shoulders and neck, and the beginnings of more defined and uniform vaginal
contractions, Ben Johnson surmised that the young girl was approaching
climax.  Leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk top on either
side of Melissa's waist, Ben gradually stepped up his tempo.  The
expression on the young girl's face slowly evolved into one of puzzled
wonderment, and as her history teacher smiled down at her, Melissa's first
orgasm seized her just seconds later.

   Mr.  Johnson made love to Melissa for over an hour, assisting her in
achieving multiple carnal apogees.  The cocaine helped the young girl to
maintain her stamina throughout the period of intense erogenous activity as
well as increasing her innate sexual appetite.  Once again Mr.  Johnson
insisted upon coaching Melissa during love making, telling her when to
squeeze him and when to relax.  Whereas before his incessant chatter about
her anatomy and even her relationship with Trevor, had been exceedingly
humiliating, not to mention aggravating for Melissa, it was somehow more
palatable this time around.  Their love making seemed to make a much
greater impression upon the head strong young lady, and later she would
recall the experience with a kind of reserved fondness.

   Ben inseminated Melissa for the second time that week to the sound of
soft whimpers.  All in all it was a highly successful and satisfying
coupling, in Ben's opinion.  In addition, he'd managed to capture the
entire encounter in both mpeg movie clips as well as a large assortment of
still images.  Melissa, was understandably quite surprised when later that
week, she received an e-mail from her American History teacher which
included three rather compelling file attachments.  The e-mail was signed,
"Looking forward to our next tutoring engagement - Ben Johnson."
   "More to follow, perhaps...  SM