Date: Mon, 16 Nov 2015 17:59:18 -0800 From: deacon mushrat Subject: A Passing Grade, Part 3 The characters and events in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people is purely co-incidental. The following story contains sexual situations. If this is illegal in your area, you are underage or you find it objectionable, do not read any farther. This story is brought to you by the generosity of Nifty. Without Nifty, no stories, no fun. Keep this site alive by donating: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html The backstory: Scott Waller teaches English in middle School. Trevor Sanders is a student of his who is exchanging sex for grades [sexchanging?] Chapter 3: The bell rang to end the school day, and Mr. Waller's seventh graders filed out, dropping their essays in a messy pile on his desk; as they left, the girls chatted and the boys roughhoused, pushing and tripping each other. Last to leave was Trevor, who put his paper on the top as he said, "I'd like a ride home, Mr. Dubya. Maybe we could stop off at your place while you grade my essay?" "That'll work, Trev. I'll see you out by my car." Trev walked out and Scott was left alone. He neatened up the pile of essays and put them and his grade book in his packpack. As he stood up he noticed a thumb drive on the floor beside his desk. One of the students must have dropped it as they were leaving. He picked it up and reflexively put it in his pocket. Trev was out by the car, and they drove to Scott's house, close to where Trev lived. On the way, Trev asked if he could read his essay to Scott. Scott agreed, and Trev pulled it out of the backpack and started reading in a faux dignified, serious voice: "The characters in `To Kill and Mockingbird' are examples of the hidden racism and prejudice in the calm society of small town America at that time. And speaking of small, I can't wait to put my small dick in your big mouth and have youÉ" "Trevor! You did not write that." "Did too. Check it out." He held up the essay so Scott could glance at it. "Dude, that is not cool. Suppose someone had seen that?" "Well, they didn't. It goes on for three pages, and you know you're gonna read every word and keep it right by your bed for future use." Scott clicked the garage door open and drove in: "Trev, please never do that ever again. We have something good here, and stuff like that could ruin it, and us, forever." They walked in the house. "Well, if you don't want me to do that `ever again', you'll have to do some special things for me." "Like what?" "A rim job before the blow job. And I'll think of more later." "You little perv. Strip down." "Oh no. You've got to do the whole thing buck naked." In the bedroom Scott undressed himself and then, under orders, undressed Trev: "First, pull your belt out of your pants. Okay, not bad. Put the belt around your neck. Yes. Now unzip my flyÉ" The sex was unusually good. Scott liked being ordered around by Trev; there was a mild and enjoyable lurking sado-masochism in taking orders from a seventh grade boy. Afterwards, as Scott put his pants back on, he remembered the thumb drive: "Hey Trev, do you know who this belongs to?" "Never seen it." "I found it by my desk after class today." "What's on it?" "Don't know. Haven't looked." Trev enjoyed the possibilities: "Well, well. Let's check it out." "Probably just some kid's schoolwork." They woke up the computer and inserted the drive. Double click the untitled drive Ñ the screen showed an untitled folder. Double click on that showed a couple dozen jpgs and four vids. They opened one of the jpgs. Schoolwork it was most definitely not. Trev blurted, "Holy shit! That's Jason." There on the screen was blond surf-and-snow grom Jason, naked as a jaybird, on his back in a bed, getting sucked by an equally naked boy whom Trev and Scott didn't recognize. "Oh my God. Jason! Sweeet! Quick, open the rest!" Apple A and double click. Many of the photos were selfies of Jason jacking himself off or playing with a sharpie in his butt. All were in a wonderfully typical boy's bedroom Ð athletic and music band posters, clothes strewn around, schoolwork on the floor. Several other jpgs showed Jason with the boy from the first photo, all from the same angle, sucking and fucking; probably selfies as well. A few of the jpgs were different: a scene outdoors, with Jason getting a blow job from a good looking man of twenty-five or so, seen from different angles Ð clearly not selfies. Both the man and Jason were fully clothed, the man on his knees and Jason standing up, his back against a tree. Another showed a similar scene in snow with ski chalets in the background. Another was in a ski lodge with Jason on his knees in front of a young man or college boy sitting in a chair. The man had his pants around his ankles, and Jason was nude from the waist down. The picture was carefully angled to reveal the man's stiff dick fully in Jason's mouth and behind Jason, the arm of a second person (man or boy?) with a firm grip on Jason's boner. Hard to tell if the person was fucking Jason or not. "Holy shit!" Trev kept saying. "Who'da thought? Jason! Awesome. Hey, open the vids." If Trev was right about the pictures being awesome, the vids were off the charts. They were all from the same event. As the camera panned around the room, eight naked boys were having a sex party. In the background were skis, jackets, clothes and boots against the wall, and in the foreground, boys in groups of two and three were acrobatically and enthusiastically enjoying themselves. Every now and then you could see Jason's blond head in the melee, except for one vid in which he didn't appear at all Ð must have been the photographer for that one. Scott and Trev didn't recognize any of the boys except Jason. During all this, Trev and Scott were playing with themelves, slowly getting more and more excited. After the end of the last vid, Trev said, "Man, I can't wait to see Jason in school. Totally awesome!" "Wait up. Let's think about this a bit. The kid's probably freaked out about losing this. Really freaked. I should just return it tomorrow and pretend I don't know anything. Then just wait a bit before we do anything." "Okay. Maybe so. But make a copy for me, and then you can return the drive to him and pretend nothing happened. But I want a copy for my personal use. And this is not over." "You promise not to tell anyone about this until we talk about it more? Don't get him or me or anyone in trouble over this?" "Trouble, what trouble? I promise. But after this stuff, I'm all hot again." He slid down his pants: "How about a second go around? Get on your knees! And take off that stupid belt." The next day a troubled Jason was waiting for Scott at the opening of school: "Mr. Waller, I lost a thumb drive with some schoolwork on it yesterday. Maybe I dropped it in this class. Did you see it maybe?" "I did, Jason. I put it in my desk. Let me get it for you." With that, Scott ducked into his room and opened the drawer of his desk with one hand as he palmed the thumb drive from his pocket with the other. He fumbled a bit and handed the drive to a visibly relieved Jason. "Thanks, Mr. Waller. You don't know how much this means to me." "Just glad to help, Jason." Later in the day, Jason sought out Scott and asked, somewhat nervously, "Mr. Waller, did you let anyone else use the drive? Did anyone else see it?" "Not that I know of, Jason." "Okay. Thanks." And Jason slowly walked away. The next day Jason was more frazzled. "Mr. Waller, are you sure no one else saw my flash drive? Did you open it? Maybe someone borrowed it from your desk?" Scott began to be suspicious of Trev's promise: "I'm sure, Jason. Don't know what to tell you." But he knew what he was going to tell Trevor. After class, Scott stopped Trevor: "Okay, Sleazoid, what are you doing to Jason? You promised not to tell anyone." "I haven't `told' anyone. I haven't said a word. I'm just slipping a picture into his locker each day to soften him up for when we get him to your place. He'll be so scared he'll do anything we want." "Just one of the jpgs?" "With a comment or two. Like, `This would look cool poster-sized in the cafeteria,' or `If the goons on the football team ever saw this." "Well stop it and tell him what's going on, or I will. You are torturing the poor little kid." The third day Jason was a wreck. Scott caught up with him sitting miserably alone in the cafeteria and told him to drop by after school. When he showed up, Scott sat him down and said, "You look wretched. What can I do to help?" "That flash drive had a lot of stuff on it I don't want to get out. It would be real bad for me. Real, real bad. It wasn't just schoolwork. I think someone got it. You didn't show it to anyone or lend it orÉ" "Jason, don't panic until I'm finished. I know who is sending you those pictures. I'll get him to stop." "You know? How? Oh God, you know what's on the drive?" "I lied to you. I opened the drive and saw the pictures and videos. A boy I know also saw them. He said he's softening you up so you'll be more willing to do those things with him." "Oh God, you saw the videos?" "It's okay, Jason. What I saw was that you were having fun with sex Ñ that sex was fun. That's the way things should be, and who we have sex with Ð well, if they are having fun, too, what's wrong with that?" "You saw them with a boy? Do I know him?" "Yes, and he wants the three of us to get together. No videos or pictures, though." "He's an asshole. Fuck him. You were having sex with him?" "He does have a mean streak, but he's great at sex. And his mean streak is going get a talking to, trust me on that. He hasn't shown the pictures to anyone else. But what do you say? Want to get together, the three of us?" "He's great at sex, you say?" "Trust me on that, too." At that moment, a knock on the frosted glass, and Trevor walked in, his hand in his pocket: "Oh oh. I'm in trouble, hunh." "You bet you are. Big time. I've told Jason everything, and you will apologize." "Dude, you were so hot, and I just wanted some of that. Dude, that free-for-all was awesome. I am soooo jealous." "Apologize, Trevor. A real apology." "Jase, I'm sorry. Scott told me not to do anything, and he was right. I'm sorry. Really am." "Does that help, Jason?" "Well, it could. Trev, Mr. Waller says you're great at sex. True?" "Mr. Waller? Oh yeah. [air quotes] And `Mr. Waller' ought to know. I've even written an essay about it, haven't I, `Mr. Waller'? But you're awesome yourself, Jase. What say you and I team up and give our perv English instructor a little instruction? His grade is slipping. He may not pass our course without a little extra help." "Boys, hold it. Trev needs a lesson about not being a shithead, and Jason needs one on not being a satyr. I don't need any help." Trevor: "You will when we get done with you. Crank up the car, Scott. Let's take a ride." As they drove off, Jason asked, "Got any handcuffs in that backpack, Mr. Waller?"