THE FOLLOWING IN A WORK OF COMPLETE FICTION. ANY RESEMBLENCE TO ANY PERSON, LIVING OR DEAD, IS COMPLETELY COINCIDENTAL. The panic had been growing within Melinda for several days now. It was the type that started off strongly, subsided somewhat, and then began growing again. The warning was real this time, she knew. And she was very afraid. Melinda's stepfather had been quite serious about sending her to a juvenile home; in fact, he had probably wanted to send her there when he first married her mother three years ago. It had taken him some time but now even her mother was in agreement. "I don't care if you are 14," her stepfather had screamed at her that night, her mother watching and seeminly in total agreement. "If you fail one more class at school, then you are gone, you stupid little bitch!" He had made the threat before but, this time, Melinda knew he was deadly serious. He had talked her mother into it, and she would allow it. She could not afford to fail anything. Math! The one subject on which she just couldn't seem to get a handle. She had stuggled with it all year and Mr. Johnson, the teacher, seemed at times not to care one way or another. At other times, he was somewhat helpful. But she was going to fail it without some mercy from him. Perhaps, she had thought, if she pleaded with him, begged him, then, perhaps, he might give her a D and keep her away from juvenile detention. Her future rested on his decision. Melinda had asked to speak with him after class. Mr. Johnson had looked at the pretty 14-year-old girl, her permed dark brown hair cascading to perhaps four inches beyond her shoulders, a few inches shorter than him in heighth, an innocent-looking face. She thought, maybe for a second, he had let his eyes drop to catch a glimpse of her half-baseball-sized tits that were covered only by a T-shirt or perhaps her legs, only semi-modestly covered with a pair of cutoffs. She blushed. "Come back after school," he told her. And he turned away. Melinda worried more the rest of the day, throughout the remainder of her classes. She procrastinated some after he last class, spending extra time in the girls' room and at the water fountain. School had been over for nearly 20 minutes before she walked into Mr. Johnson's room again. Melinda knocked lightly at the open door. Mr. Johnson looked up from his desk and motioned her inside, telling her to close the door behind her. She did. She walked over to his desk beside it, then moved somewhat behind it, near him. He pulled his swivel chair our from underneath the desk and turned to face her, leaning back a little to look at her. He did not offer her a seat. He obviously intended for her to stand. "Well, what can I do for you?" he asked, somewhat abruptly. She stammered and hesitated. "Uh...Mr. Johnson?...uh...I know I haven't been doing too well in your class and all and...uh...well I guess my grade isn't going to end up being too good and all..." "You're flunking it, Melinda," he interrupted her. Taken aback by his abruptness, Melinda tried to continue, fear engulfing her. "Well...uh...I was just thinking, you know, maybe if I could do some extra credit or something..." "I don't think so," he interrupted her again. "I don't see any way possible you could pass this class." He then turned back to his desk and began grading papers. She was most obviously dismissed. Yet, she couldn't leave. Her future was crushed. She had heard some of the horror stories of the juvenile detention center and, though she tried very hard not to, she began crying softly. "What is your problem?" Mr. Johnson asked unsympathetically, not even bothering to look up from his desk work. Melinda had begun to reply "nothing," and to walk off to her fate. But for some reason the words began flowing. She began telling him everything: how she HAD to pass, how her stepfather had tried so hard to get rid of her, how he was her only hope. At first, she thought maybe she'd touched him. Mr. Johnson again pulled from underneath his desk and turned to face her. Leaning forward in his chair, he looked up at her. "How much extra credit would you be willing to do for a D, Melinda?" he asked her. Her heart jumped. A chance! "Anything, Mr. Johnson! Anything you wanted me to! I'd work all day and all night!" His hand moved out slowly and rested on the side of her thigh, caressing it just below the hem of her shorts. "Anything, Melinda?" Her first thought was to turn and run. Her second was to slap his hand away. Her action, in fact, was to stand there and let him feel her thigh. She didn't reply to his question. She just stood there. Mr. Johnson rolled his chair closer to the standing girl, his hand feeling her right thigh openly now. His other hand moved slowly to her left breast, barely touching it at first, and then feeling it through her T-shirt. Melinda stood there, feeling like a whore as the 40ish Mr. Johnson began feeling her body, his hand slipping behind her to feel her ass through her cutoffs, his other hand brazenly feeling her 14-year-old breast. "Maybe, Melinda...just MAYBE...we could get you a D in here," he said softly, still feeling her. "Let me have your T-shirt," he ordered her. She stood still, shocked at what he wanted. "Give me your goddam T-shirt!" he nearly yelled at her, "or get the fuck out of here and flunk my fucking class!" Melinda whimpered but knew she must obey. Her hands dropped to her sides, pulling the shirt out of her pants and then up and over her head. Now topless, her firm young tits bared, she laid the T-shirt on his desk. Both of his hands moved to her, feeling her, caressing her, squeezing her. "Nice tits," he said. "Real nice tits." His words were so demeaning. But she had no choice. She stood there and let this teacher feel her bare tits. "Now the shorts," he said. Her hands moved to the front of them, unsnapping them, unzipping them and then sliding them down her firm young legs, stepping out of them and her shoes at the same time. She laid the shorts on his desk by the T-shirt, standing there now clad in only her bikini panties. Mr. Johnson leaned back in his chair, his hands moving to clasp behind his head. His eyes drifted over the young girl's nearly-nude body. Melinda could tell he was enjoying demeaning her this way. It was obvious the way the front of his pants jumped. She knew he had gotten hard or was getting hard from looking at her. "Now the panties." She hesitated. She didn't want to be completely nude in front of this letch. She had been demeaned enough. "I think I need to go now," she said, and reached for her shorts on his desk. His hand dropped on top of hers, grasping it. "Juvie Hall sounding better?" "I'll tell the principal what you made me do," she replied, suddenly braver. Instead of the look of fear for which she had hoped, however, Mr. Johnson merely chuckled. "Think he'll believe you instead of me? With YOUR grades? And even if he did, that won't keep you from flunking." Melinda's heart sank. He was right, she knew. And even if the principal did believe her and Mr. Johnson got into all kinds of trouble, she would still hear about it from juveniline detention. He let loose of her hand and again leaned back in the chair. Neither spoke for nearly a minute. He let her think. After some time, her hands dropped to the waistband of her panties. Her fingers hooked them and slowly she slid them down her tanned luscious young thighs and off. She laid them on the desk and stood there nude. He watched her for awhile, his eyes roaming her nude young body. It was so demeaning to stand there nude for him. But she knew that anything he wanted, no matter what, she would have to give to him. Finally, he stood and pushed her over the desk. She was still standing but her hands were on the desk holding her up, leaning her forward over it. He rolled his chair back behind her and she felt his fingers as they began moving between her legs, and then as they began probing her pussy. She let him feel her, touch her, caress her clit. What she never did expect was a soft moan that came from her lips as his fingers massaged her cunt. As much as she tried, she couldn't block out the pleasurable feelings his fingers were giving her. She couldn't ignore the wetness of her pussy. "Stay there," he ordered and she heard him stand. She dared not move. Melinda heard the sound of his zipper and then the movement of fabric. He was pulling his pants down. From the corner of her eye, she could seem him reaching into a desk drawer and pulling out a jar of something. What it was she could not tell. A few moments later, she heard him set it aside. Then she felt the pressure at her asshole. At first, she had no idea what it was but, when she did realize, it hit her like a ton of bricks. It was Mr. Johnson's cock. "No, please," she whimpered, begging him. He offered no reply. She merely felt increased pressure as he began pushing his hard cock into her virgin asshole. "God, no. Please, Mr. Johnson. Please, no!" she whimpered to him more loudly now. She felt his hands move to her hips and he began pulling her closer to him. Suddenly, her asshole felt as if it had caught on fire. She screamed, a very quick scream, and her him laugh as his hard cock penetrated her ass. Melinda grunted and groaned. She whimpered and cried. And Mr. Johnson kept pushing until his entire hard cock was buried in her asshole. "You fucking little bitch!" he growled to her. "You deserve this. And you're gonna fucking get it!" His hard cock pulled back until just the head was in her ass and then she felt him thurst, hard and deep, back into her asshole. He was fucking her hard, fucking her ass with a vengeance. She wanted to pass. He wanted her body. So she let him rape her ass. He began moving faster and faster. Melinda could feel his cock thrusting in and out of her asshole, feeling as if it was growing thicker with every thrust, feeling as if he was fucking her harder every time. She stood there, nude and leaning forward over his desk, as his cock moved even faster. She heard him groan loudly and then felt him bury his cock in her ass. He would move it quickly a few times, then stop with it buried in her. Then she felt the hot liquid in her - he had cum in her ass. The next few minutes she must have been in shock. She remembered very little. Melinda could somehow recall licking his cock clean and then having him scoop cum from her asshole and feeding it to her. She could recall just a bit of him laying her on the floor in various nude poses, while he photographed her, while he had her masturbate for him. When her mind finally allowed her to come to, she was dressed again and sitting on his desk. "Well, Melinda, it IS possible you could earn a D in this class but you are going to have to work awfully hard for me," he was telling her. "Wait," she said, shocked at his words. "Didn't I just do that? I did everything you said!" Mr. Johnson laughed. "Yeah, that's true. But now I have these photographs of you, which would REALLY give your stepfather something to throw you out of the house over." He reached into another desk drawer, pulled out a key and unlocked even another one. He reached far into the back, pulling out a small steel box which was padlocked. Turning the lock away from her, he worked the combination and opened it. There were what looked to Melinda like hundreds of photographs inside. He pulled some out. Leafing through them, he took one and showed it to her. It was a photo of Karen, one of the prettiest girls in her class, laying nude on the floor of the classroom. A second photo he showed her was one of Karen with two fingers in her pussy and one in her ass. A third showed her smiling sexily at the camera, her face covered with cum, presumedly Mr. Johnson's. Allowing the sight of Karen to sink in, Mr. Johnson told her, "If you do your extra credit well, you might pass. But it will require some team work." She looked at him quizzically. "Team work?" "Well," he smiled, "I'm sure it would nice watching you and Karen lick each other's pussies for while. Don't you?" The color drained from her face. "I...I...I just couldn't," she stammered. "That would be too bad. I've had some girls who did not want to do the regular extra credit work and I've had to assign more strenous duties." Again, she looked at him, waiting for whatever demeaning punishment he planned to offer. He brought out what appeared to be a series of photographs. The first was two girls Melinda knew from school, but they were a year behind her. They were twins, blond, and very pretty. They stood before the camera nude. The second showed a closeup of their faces as they kissed each other. The third showed the same kiss, both girls apparently on their hands and knees facing each other. Karen paled as she saw the fourth photo. The 13-year-old twins were nude and were on their hands and knees. While they kissed, behind each one was an Irish Setter. The dogs had their cocks buried in each of the twin's cunts, fucking them. "Perhaps we can arrange that for you in the future," Mr. Johnson said to her smugly. "But, for right now, I think I need my cock sucked." He stood and again pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. "Would you like to Melinda?" he asked her, quite politely. The thoughts of the twins in her mind, Melinda knew she had not other option. "I would love to suck your cock, Mr. Johnson," she said. She knew she had no other choice. As she dropped to her knees in front of him and began running her tongue over his cock, the 14-year-old Melinda knew she would be sucking his cock, having her fuck her cunt and ass, and seeing him shoot his cum all over her for the rest of the year. She was resigned that she would be eating Karen's pussy for his enjoyment and perhaps even fucking dogs herself. But as she opened her mouth and took his cock inside it, she knew she would not be in juvenile hall either. -end-