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Subject: {ASSM} The Obligation Part Two by The StoryMaster [M/Teen f, NC, Blackmail, Drugged]
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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 had Melissa swung her legs over the edge of her bed and
shifted 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, pantiless 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 or in 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 grey-green 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 history 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 until she could figure out how to deal with the mess..

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.  "And feel free to use a towel to
help dry your dress.  Meanwhile 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 re-entered 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, and had towel dried her dress enough such
that embarrassing wet spot was no longer noticeable.  She also left
her panties in the clothes hamper as instructed.  She and her history
teacher now shared a little secret  that beneath her slightly damp 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 knowing
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 from 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 to 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.  And maybe, just maybe If she were able to
relax and think, 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.  Yes she does," 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 too 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 amazing 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 the very core of
her.

"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.

Reflexively she obeyed, clenching her small fist.  Almost instantly
two sizeable blue veins rose proudly beneath her pale skin. Smiling
inwardly, Ben Johnson swabbed the inside of her elbow with an alcohol
wipe.   

"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.  Taking her by the wrist he
turned her arm such that the inside of her elbow was accessible.
Melissa's 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 unsuccessfully
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 almost effortlessly.

"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 permeated 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 just 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 him.  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.  Ben 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 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 intense 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."

End..  SM

-- 
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