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Teaching Shannon - Part 2
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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The following story is purely fictional. It is copyright © 1993 by its
author, Honi Soitqui Malypense, who grants to the public the right of free
replication for non-commercial purposes only, provided that no changes are
made and that this notice is retained. All other rights are reserved.
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WARNING
This story contains profanity, sex (m/f), domination of a girl by a man, and
violence. If you do not enjoy such things, please do not read it. If you
do, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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TEACHING SHANNON
Chapter Two
I spent the evening, and much of the following day, in trepidation. At
the time it had happened, I thought that it had gone very well; but on
reflection, I was not sure. I had, after all, forced a young student to lick
my cum off my office floor. If she could convince anyone that it had really
happened, I would not only lose my job, I would probably end up in court,
even though she was of age and had started it all. I was not actually too
worried about this part, however, as I was fairly well convinced that she
wanted to continue our arrangement, at least long enough to pass my class.
I was much more worried about what would happen tonight, when I had told
her to come to my office again. Last night she had seemed to take my
direction willingly, but would this continue? Or would she, once not under
the influence of sex, decide that she would herself set the rules? If that
latter were the case, I needed to outplay her if possible, and I did not
know how to go about it. I knew her so little that I could not even form
any definite plan; I had to wait and play it by ear.
Shannon arrived at my office after my last class. I had not seen her
that day, and I was once again taken aback at my attraction to her. The
truth was that she unnerved me---I would have done nearly anything to have
sex with her. I thought I had been successful in disguising this in the
past, and I knew that I could never let her know it if we were to have the
relationship I desired. (I was wrong about this, of course, but I was too
inexperienced to know it at the time.)
"Hello, Shannon. Did you bring the stuff for your other classes?"
"Yes. Here." She handed me a stack of papers, books, and notebooks.
"I still don't understand what you want them for, though."
I didn't tell her. "You will. Sit down." I nodded my head toward a
chair, and she sat down. "I need to look these over a few minutes."
She sat down, looking puzzled and a little pouty at not being told
what was going on, and I began to examine her course work. The courses
were American Literature (a survey) and Ancient History; fortunately, I
knew quite a bit about both. She was failing both courses, but neither
one too badly; it would not take too much to bring her grades up to passing
ones. She apparently had one paper and the final exam left in each course.
I put down the papers and looked at her for a few minutes, which made her
visibly uncomfortable. My problem was that I didn't know how to make the
proposition I had in mind in such a way as to make her take it seriously.
Before I could state it at all, however, I needed some information.
"Shannon---are you planning to be in summer school?"
She looked surprised, but answered the question. "Yes. I was going
to take two Soc courses, but now I guess I'll have to take history and
English over." She looked upset. " If they'll even let me stay in school."
"Hmm. One more thing. Do you live with your parents?" Many students
did; the financial savings were part of the reason they went to community
college.
The question brought forth a look of even greater surprise, but again
she answered. "Yes. Umm---no. Well...I live in my parents' house, but
they're in Germany for two years. My dad was transferred there."
"Do you live alone?"
She looked exasperated as she said, "Yes. Why are you asking me all
these questions?"
It was time to be direct. "Okay, Shannon, here's what I want." I looked
over to make sure that the door was closed. "I can get you passing grades---
probably D's---in your history and English courses, and a good grade in mine,
and good grades in your summer school classes as well."
She was astonished. "How can you do that?" A shrewd look then came over
her face as she continued, "Can you break into the computers?"
"No," I replied, "nothing like that. It's all completely aboveboard.
However," and I looked hard at her, "there's a very high price."
I waited for her to ask, and she did, warily. "What price?"
I swallowed hard while trying not to show my nervousness, and said,
"I want you to be my slave, from now till the end of first summer session."
It took her a moment to realize what I had said. When she did she was
nervous herself; she was wondering whether I was a madman, and she could see
that she had gotten in deeper than she had wanted. She certainly didn't
want to assent, but she didn't want to offend me either; she still needed
a passing grade in my class. It took her a moment to answer, and even then
she didn't seem to know what to say.
"Umm---well---" She paused, looking down. When she looked up again she
said "Look. Couldn't we just have a simple arrangement, sex for a grade?
That's all I wanted." It had obviously been difficult for her to say, and
she looked down again. I had been prepared for something like this, and had
made my decision beforehand. I waited; in a moment she looked up for my
answer, which was a firm "No."
She made no response, so I continued, in a tone as uncompromising-
sounding as I could, in my nervousness, adopt. "I'm only interested in what
I said." She stayed silent, so I went on. "I'll give you twenty-four
hours to decide. If you're not here tomorrow night at this time, I'll
assume that you're not interested." I was amazed at my ability to maintain
a facade of self-assurance, though of course my heart was trembling with
anxiety at each word. Of course I did not mean it about the twenty-four-hour
limit; I was just trying to pressure her.
Having now had a few minutes to take it all in, she was ready with her
response, which was indignant. "I won't be here. You can forget it." Her
voice shook slightly as she said angrily, "You know what? You're crazy. I'm
sorry I ever even thought of having sex with you."
She got up to leave, but I stood up and blocked her way. Having gone
this far, I was determined to play out the rest of my fantasy. My surprising
calm had not abandoned me; indeed I felt, if anything, more calm and in
control than before. Standing in front of her I ordered, "Sit down! You
can't go yet. You might change your mind, and I want you to know exactly
what I'm proposing." I put a hand on her chest and pushed her roughly down
into the chair. I leaned over to look directly at her and said, "I would
not be an easy master to you." I caressed her face with my hand, and she
tried to move away, her eyes wide. I quickly moved my hand to her neck and
squeezed lightly, making her start and look directly up at me. I stared
at her and said in a voice that I could not keep from being hoarse, "I would
whip you and fuck you and humiliate you, Shannon, and do other things you've
never thought of. You would be my sex toy. Have you ever wanted to be a sex
toy?" I squeezed harder as I said the last sentence, and her eyes widened even
more, but she remained silent. I relaxed my grip somewhat and said in a more
normal tone, "I can give you only one assurance. I would never do anything that
would cause you permanent physical harm."
I released her and sat down. She made no motion toward the door, so I
said, "You may go. Remember, twenty-four hours." She picked up her
papers and books quickly, staying as far away from me as she could, and left
without saying a word. I left, feeling intensely satisfied even though I was
pretty sure she would never be back. It was too bad to lose her, but at least
I had risked trying something I had always wanted but never had the nerve for
before. As I drove home I sang "Under My Thumb" at the top of my voice.
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