Message-ID: <8325eli$9802101807@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8325.txt>
From: jaypee <jaypee@KIVA.NET>
Subject: repost 6-10 TORTURED TEACHER
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <34DD998B.72D0@KIVA.NET>
Moderator's note ------
This got caught in a mail problem somewhere and may be a duplicate.
Itf not, it was delayed a few days.
------ end note
Index words: (none)
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 6
by Joy Paine
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
It was getting on toward late Autumn when the blow fell. Susie had
noticed that the kids in general, and Angie in particular, were getting
more and more uncooperative every time that Susie was in charge of the
class. Probably restless about the approaching holidays, Susie thought,
hoping desperately that she was right -- that her irrational premonition
was unfounded.
Jim was on one of his frequent out-of-town trips when it happened. Susie
was just coming back to her room from a pre-school session with the
Principal (during which he made the usual proposition) when one of the
Senior boys approached her in the hall.
"You know, teacher," he said, "you ought to have that engine of yours
looked at. It's making a bit of noise, and it sounds as if it might quit
on you, one of these days. And you don't want it to fail while you're
out on the road, especially now that night is falling earlier every day.
"If you want, I could take a look at it during lunch hour. It sounds like
something simple, like maybe a loose connection. If it's anything more
complicated, I think I know enough about cars so I could tell you whether
it really is something serious enough to need work right away.
"I promise I won't take your car apart out there on the parking lot,"
he grinned.
Susie matched his smile with one of her own. This was practically the
first civil word that any of her students had said to her. Maybe that's
the right psychological approach, she thought. Find something they think
they're good at, and give them a chance to do it. She gave the boy her
keys, along with another smile.
He returned the keys promptly at the end of lunch hour, with the
reassurance that it had indeed been nothing but a loose wire, which he
had been able to fix on the spot. She thanked him, and put the keys back
in her purse.
"I wonder if you could do me a favor in return," he asked. "I'm a little
embarrassed about it, because you're going to think that's the only
reason I told you about the car. It isn't, I promise you."
Susie smiled at his awkward earnestness. "Don't worry," she reassured
him. "I believe you. What is it that you want?"
"I just wonder if you could give me about five minutes after school,
to explain again that quotation from Shakespeare that we had for today's
lesson. I can't understand, for the life of me -- if he was such a great
writer, why couldn't he speak English right?"
"Why, that's because -- " Susie began, then noticed the impish expression
on his face. "You're teasing me!" she accused.
"Yes, ma'am," he admitted. "But I really would like a chance to talk
about
it for maybe five minutes."
Susie thought for a moment. She was a little uneasy about staying after
school with one of the more mature male students. But what could happen
to her? It wasn't as if she would be alone with him -- lots of the other
teachers and students, as well as the custodial staff, would be all
around. And she did owe him something for his help. Besides, she wanted
to keep up the momentum of their newly-formed friendship.
It turned out that his questions took more like half an hour, but they
were legitimate questions. And there was not the least suggestion of
improper behavior. When they had finished, the boy thanked her politely,
walked her out to her car, and even held the door open while she got in.
Her skirt hiked up when she got into the car, and she could feel his eyes
on her thighs, but she could hardly blame him for that. She just wished
that it hadn't happened.
She debated for a moment whether to offer him a ride, but he didn't give
her a chance. Closing the door behind her, he ambled off toward the
students' end of the parking lot; hands in pockets, whistling a carefree
tune. Susie blushed as she realized that she was watching the tautness
of the jeans across his hips, the slight sway of his lean figure as he
sauntered across the lot.
My God! she thought, I must be missing Jim more than I realize.
She was happy to see that her car started more easily than usual. That
kid knew what he was doing.
I hope that I know what I'm doing, Susie thought as she drove away.
story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 7
by Joy Paine
Index words: trapped t#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
The car hummed happily as Susie drove home, and she hummed right
along with it. So a few minutes of help on both sides wasn't
such a big deal, but at least it was a start. Now if she could
only find some way through Angie's barrier of cynicism and
resentment . . .
She took the usual precautions as she drove out of town, making
sure that no car was following her. Jim had often teased her about
her timidity, but she still couldn't ever feel completely safe
about living in that little house that Jim had built, way out there
in the woods. He had humored her, though, and had made a veritable
fortress of the house, fitting the doors with pick-proof locks,
putting stout shutters in the windows. And best of all, he had
installed a garage door opener, so she could drive in and close the
doors behind her without getting out of the car. And, since the garage
had a connecting door to the house, she felt completely safe, once the
massive garage door fell shut behind her.
And she loved the house itself -- a romantic hideaway, out of sight
and sound of the neighbors, so that they could romp and cavort all
they wanted, without disturbing a soul. Too bad, Susie thought
wistfully, that she had grown up with the stern conviction that romping
and cavorting were sinful.
As a matter of habit, Susie made the rounds as soon as she walked into
the house, making sure that the bolts were in place on the doors, and
that the shutters were securely locked. Everything was in order, just
as she had left it in the morning. But wait! There was a light on in
the master bedroom. Susie gave a little cry of annoyance -- she must
have forgotten to turn the light off when she had left that morning.
As she climbed the stairs, Susie smiled as she recalled again the
afternoon's "adventure". She walked into the bedroom, unbuttoning her
blouse on the way.
What the deuce?
Susie stopped short at the spectacle -- there was no other word for it --
that greeted her. The covers had been stripped from her bed, and the bed
had been remade with black satin sheets, giving the room the appearance
of sinful luxury. And a naked blonde woman was lying in the middle of
the bed, while a man focused a video recorder on her.
Surely, Susie thought, Jim wouldn't be so brazen as to bring a woman
here, into their own bedroom! The blonde looked up and winked
lasciviously as Susie stormed into the room.
t#
It was Angie!
And she recognized the man who was operating the camera as one of her
students. She whirled at a noise behind her, saw two more of her male
students standing in the doorway.
"What is this? How did you get in?" Susie sputtered.
The cameraman laughed easily. "Simple as pie, Susie baby. When you gave
Chuck the keys to your car at lunch time, he slipped your garage door
opener to Angie, and she just set her own opener to the same code. Then
Chuck delayed you after school so we could pop out and get things ready.
Pretty sexy, hey?" He gestured proudly at the bed, and at its occupant.
"We parked our car out of sight behind the garage, so it wouldn't scare
you off."
"Well, you can just take that car and get out of here right now!" Susie
shouted.
"Sorry, honey, but we just couldn't do that." The familiar tone of his
address wad not lost on Susie. "After Chuck went to all that trouble to
set things up for us, I guess the least we could do is wait for him to
get here. I think that's his car now," he added.
Susie strode over to the phone, picked up the instrument.
Dead.
Her "guests" laughed.
"Don't worry, sweetie," one of the boys chuckled. "We didn't want you
doing anything rash, like calling the police, so we disconnected your
phone at the main terminal block. Nothing serious, just two screws.
We'll fix it up again before we leave. After all, a couple of screws
will take no time at all," he leered.
This can't be happening, Susie told herself. It's a nightmare. Any
minute now, I'll wake up and find that Jim is here in bed beside me.
But in the meantime . . .
"And what sort of childish games do you plan to play in my house?" she
snarled.
Again that irritating chuckle. "Well, actually, we thought of playing
some rather adult games, darling. We think that you've been pretty
rough on Angie over the past few weeks, and figured that it would only
be fair for you to apologize. Not only in words, but with some
actions," he snickered. "We figured it would be real nice of you to
give Angie a blow job. For openers . . ."
story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 8
by Joy Paine
Index words: whipped w#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
Susie gasped. She knew the meaning of the word -- her life hadn't been
that sheltered. After all, she had lived in a college dormitory for four
years. Her anger flared up again. "I'll do no such thing!" she protested.
"You can take your dirty ideas, and your dirty sheets, and . . ." She
broke off in a yelp of pain as one of the boys hit her with a leather
strap, the lash curling around her calves, just below her skirt. Everyone
laughed.
Everyone but Susie.
By now, Chuck had arrived. "Susie honey," he leered, "you should see how
nicely you jiggle when you jump. Especially with your tits hanging out
like that," he added.
Susie's face burned a flaming red. She had forgotten that she had been
removing her blouse when she came up the stairs, that her bra was starkly
revealed, with its hint of firm female flesh within. More than a hint,
actually -- the tantalizing upper slopes of her breasts were fully
exposed to the lecherous stares of the boys -- and to Angie's cynical
inspection.
Belatedly, she crossed her arms over her breasts, all bravado lost in the
realization of her complete vulnerability.
The strap bit into her legs again. "Let's see a bit of respect now,
Teacher," the boy taunted. "Let's see you stand up straight, with your
hands at your sides. Stand at attention -- chin up, shoulders back,
and -- ah -- chest out." He emphasized the command with another blow.
w#
Susie crumpled into a heap on the floor, face buried in her hands. She
didn't notice that her skirt had crept up, exposing the lower part of
her nicely rounded thighs, until her tormentor rained a series of blows
on her. The other boys quickly took off their belts and joined in the
fun, while Susie writhed in agony.
"OK!" Angie finally called above Susie's wails. "Enough. For the time
being, anyway. I think that little Susie may be softened up enough by
now so that she'll be a little more cooperative. On your feet, cunt!"
she barked.
Painfully, Susie drew herself to her feet. "So stand at attention,
like you were told." All resistance gone, Susie obeyed the command,
agonizingly aware that her blouse now hung fully open, but not daring
to do anything that would conceal her almost-naked charms.
She knew what the boys wanted to look at. And she knew what else they
were going to want, too.
"Now," Angie sneered, confirming her fears, "let's get down to cases.
I'm sure that these fine specimens of American manhood just can't wait
to fuck you. Right, guys?" The answer was a chorus of cheers.
"And you just can't wait for them to do it, can you, Susie dear?"
"No!" Susie screamed. "Please, not that! I'll do anything you want,
but please -- please don't -- don't violate me!"
"Violate", Angie mimicked the word. "How cute! Well, maybe we can work
out something else that you can do instead. No, don't grumble, fellows.
Let's just see if we can work out a good compromise for all concerned.
"Let's see. First of all, we have the problems of what Susie-Floozie
is going to do after we leave. It would be most embarrassing if she
went running to the police. Even though it would be her word against
ours, any accusation would prejudice the pigs against us if they catch
us in another caper.
"So what to do, Susie? We can't take your word that you'll forgive and
forget, of course. So the obvious alternative would be to quietly slit
your throat after we finish doing you. After all, dead women don't
tell tales, any more than dead men do. Maybe we could have a little
fun along the way, like slicing your tits off first. How about it?"
"Please --" Susie protested. "Please don't kill me."
"Just like the classic advice they give to rape victims," Angie gloated.
"Survival is the first order of the day, no matter what the price.
OK, so let's negotiate the price.
"It occurs that it might protect us if you let us take pictures of the
action -- plus some shots of you getting ready for the gig. That way,
if you scream Copper, we can show that you were really cooperating.
And you would find yourself in trouble, anyway, for contributing to
the delinquency of minors. Well, we're not all minors, exactly, but
a teacher is supposed to be guardian of her students' morals, and all
that."
"Yeah," pointed out one of the boys. "Even if we did get into hot water,
they'd blame her more than they would us. Shame on you, you hussy!"
he whittled his finger at Susie, "leading us into the paths of
temptation."
"So let's have your opinion, Susie dear," Angie went on. "Will you
pose for the pictures, or do you consider it a fate worse than death?
Literally, that is," she added.
Susie forced herself to nod her acquiescence.
"And now for the other question. Are you willing to give me a real
first-class Frenching, or would you rather be fucked by the boys?"
"Please -- I'll do what you want," Susie wailed.
story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 9
by Joy Paine
Index words: breast abuse b# humiliation h# lesbian l#
strip s#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
The boys licked their lips. Things were really beginning to shape up.
They knew that Angie would provide some kind of entertainment for them,
after she'd had hers. But no sense worrying Susie about that now. One
problem at a time.
"OK", said Angie. "The first thing is for you to make yourself
presentable. First, let's wash your face."
h#
All resistance gone, Susie let them take her by the arm and half-lead,
half-drag her to the bathroom, where they washed away all trace of tears.
Then Angie took a make-up kit from her purse, and started painting
Susie's face. When she had finished, Susie looked like a Skid Row whore,
although it was still easy to recognize who she was.
Then back to the bedroom.
With the confidence of someone who has been through it all before, Angie
directed the boys to set up the cameras and video tape recorders in
positions where they would capture all of the action, and still would
include enough of the background so that anyone who had ever seen the
inside of Susie's bedroom would immediately recognize it. Then she turned
to Susie, the unwilling star of the show.
b#
"First, let's see you smile, darling. No, not a fixed grin like that. Try
to look as if you are enjoying every moment of it." She reinforced the
command by squeezing Susie's breast agonizingly.
"There," she crooned. "If you behave yourself, you'll save yourself a
lot of pain -- and maybe some things that you'll dislike even more than
pain." She emphasized her point with another pinch -- hard enough to
hurt like fire, even through the bra.
s#
"Now take off your clothes, darling. Nice and slow."
Susie understood. Slowly, tantalizingly, she slid her blouse down over
her shoulders, posing and smiling all the while like a fashion model.
Then she let the blouse fall to the floor in a heap. Next, her skirt.
The boys whistled enthusiastically at the view of her glorious thighs,
which her panties, although conservatively cut, did more to emphasize
than to conceal.
And then her bra.
She tried desperately to keep her mind on other things as she unfastened
the catch, slid the straps over her shoulders, and finally let the skimpy
garment fall to the floor. Then the further humiliation of having to
flaunt her firm young breasts, cupping her hands under them and offering
them to the camera, all the while keeping that pseudo-lascivious smile on
her face.
And the whistles and catcalls of the boys didn't make her feel any
better.
She was really surprised when Angie told her to keep her panties on, "for
the moment, anyway. It'll be even more sexy when we do our Lesbian bit.
And why would I want to have access to your cunt, anyway?"
l#
Angie wasn't kidding about the Lesbian bit. She was wise beyond her years
when it came to sex, and she did things with her fingers and tongue that
quickly brought Susie to peaks of desire that she had never known before.
But only desire -- Angie was very careful to deny her fulfillment,
stopping each time just as Susie was about to come, breaking the spell
with a pinch or a slap that left Susie in a fire of frustration.
And then Angie demanded her turn, guiding Susie through all the intimate
motions that she had once thought thoroughly sinful and disgusting, but
seemed, after Angie's preliminaries, the most natural thing in the world
.
Hating herself for the weakness of her flesh, Susie found herself
thoroughly
enjoying the experience, working earnestly to satisfy Angie's need,
hoping
desperately that her turn would come next.
It didn't, of course. As soon as she had tongued Angie to a climax,
Angie's hands held her head in a vise-like grip, shoving her face into
the younger girl's crotch until she was sure that she would suffocate.
Finally, Angie's spasms subsided, and she released her hold on Susie's
head.
"God damn!" she muttered. "What a trip! Susie baby, you have a tongue to
end all tongues. We're going to have to arrange to do that bit again and
again. But in the meantime, it's only fair for you to do the same for
these fine guys who have been helping out. But only blow jobs today,
fellows," she admonished. "After all, we don't know what precautions
Susie takes, and we don't want to take any chances on knocking her up,
do we?"
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 10
by Joy Paine
Index words: oral rape o# warm-up w#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
"But don't start thinking you're home free, Susie darling," Angie warned.
"The guys are willing to let you off without fucking -- tonight,
anyway -- but only if you give them the best Frenching that they've ever
had in their lives. Just one hint of resistance, or one feel of your
teeth, and it's twat time. And maybe asshole time, too," she added as
an afterthought. "Have you got that, Sweetie?"
Susie nodded that she understood.
"And I'll add one more rule," the blonde went on. "All the time, you've
got to be smiling prettily for the camera, and doing your best to make
it look like this was a labor of love."
Angie turned to the boys. "Now you guys with the cameras. Make sure that
we get a clear view of Susie's face in every shot, plus a good look at
the prick that she's sucking. If you can get a good shot of her bedroom
in the background, fine -- but the main thing is that every picture must
show, without any chance of mistake, who she is, and what she's doing.
"And I know that you guy are a little camera-shy, but I do want enough of
your identity to show so it'll be clear that she's blowing more than one
fellow.
"And now for the good news. It'll take three guys to man the cameras, and
of course one will be the beneficiary of Susie's ministrations. That
leaves one more fellow. If you want, I'll warm up each guy who's on deck,
to get him ready for the blow job."
w#
The guys cheered. They knew what Angie's "warm-ups" were like. They just
had to make sure that they had something left for Susie after they were
thoroughly warmed up.
"And now, Susie baby, prepare to meet your doom." Susie shuddered. The
expression was all too appropriate.
Chuck deserved the honor of being first, but he deferred to one of the
other boys "so I can have the fun of Angie's warm-up. After all", he
pointed out, "it isn't exactly a case of taking sloppy seconds."
They drew straws to see who got the honor of taking Chuck's place, and
they all cheered the winner.
o#
Susie knew what she had to do. When the candidate had taken off his
pants and stretched out on the bed -- the bed that she shared with Jim,
Susie remembered with anguish -- she climbed up and lowered her head.
At a reminder from Angie, she grinned at the camera, then adjusted her
position a little so that they could get a clear shot of her face as
she parted her lips and bent to the disgusting task.
This is what Jim always wanted to do, she thought. Maybe this ordeal is
a punishment because I wouldn't do it for him.
Swallowing back the vomit that rose to her throat, Susie touched the
monster tentatively her lips, eliciting a moan of pleasure. Then,
at another prodding word, she parted her lips, took the repulsive thing
into her mouth.
At least it didn't last long. The boy had been loaded for bear, and it
only took a few strokes before he shouted in ecstasy and shot his wad
right into Susie's mouth, grabbing her by the hair and holding her so
she couldn't back away, until she had to swallow the whole disgusting
mess.
And then it was Chuck's turn. To make sure it wasn't "sloppy seconds",
he made Susie brush her teeth and gargle before he lay down for her. Or
rather, he let the other fellows make her do it -- he didn't want to
lose the momentum of Angie's "warm-up".
As soon as her face got near Chuck's prick, Susie knew what the "warm-up"
meant. The thing smelled and tasted like Angie's cunt -- a smell and
taste that Susie had gotten all too used to while she was Frenching
the younger girl. Apparently Angie, unsated by Susie's blow job, had
been having Chuck fuck her.
* * * * *
Somehow, Susie survived the ordeal. Their preferences varied. One of
the fellows preferred to be on top, with Susie lying passively on her
back, while he rammed his dick into her as far as her tonsils. Another
went for the delicate touch, and had Susie tongue him gently, so that
when he finally came it shot all over her face. Another had her kneel
over his face, instead of between his legs, so he could squeeze her
breasts agonizingly while she serviced him.
And so on. She lost count of the number of times her face was raped,
but she was sure that every one of the boys had her at least twice.
But anyway, she consoled herself, if she stole all their strength with
her blow jobs, she could be all the more confident that they would not
break their word and invade her cunt after she had done her damnedest
to satisfy them with her hitherto virgin mouth.
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>