Exam Results

Coach Bryan was checking out the mid-year exam results, mainly to reassure himself that all members of the team were getting passing marks in all the required subjects. A missing pass mark meant the player would have to be dropped until his scholastic record was brought up to an acceptable level.

The coach wasn't too concerned. Most of the staff gave his boys a little leeway, pushing them up over the edge when needed. Knowing and accepting this little fact meant it came as a bit of a shock to him when he started checking Junior Bear's result. There was a big round zero next to his history test. No amount of glaring would change it into an acceptable pass mark. How, he wondered, did you achieve a zero in an exam?

It was true that Junior Bear wasn't the smartest person in the school, but he did have some intelligence. At least, the coach assumed he had to have some because he certainly didn't waste any by using it, but a zero? Investigation was required.

The final bell had rung and the school was empty of students, apart from those unfortunate enough to have acquired a detention. Coach Bryan ambled along to see Mrs Fotheringham. As well as being the Head-Mistress she was also the history teacher and was regarded as being a fair and reasonable marker.

He gave a perfunctory knock on her office door and walked in, stopping short at the sight that confronted him. A young lady was bent over Mrs Fotheringham's desk, skirt up around her waist and panties down around her knees. Her very nice bottom was on full display and seemed to be glowing with a nice red flush. Her face, when she turned her head to see who had entered, turned an even deeper red.

"Mrs Fotheringham, Eliza," Coach Bryan greeted them. "Ah, using corporal punishment now?"

"In some rare cases it seems to be the only answer to certain discipline problems. I assume that you're here about Junior Bear's results?"

A gracious nod of the head from the coach and Mrs Fotheringham continued.

"You can thank our little entrepreneur, Eliza, for those results. Do you want to explain to the coach, Eliza? No? I didn't think so."

Mrs Fotheringham sighed.

"Eliza has been selling exam answers to gullible students," she explained, "one of whom was Junior Bear. And that is a ridiculous name. What were his parents thinking of naming him like that?"

"If," said Coach Bryan, speaking carefully, "Junior had the answers then how did he fail? Was he caught cheating?"

"Not exactly. While Eliza was selling genuine exam results they weren't for this year's exam. She photocopied example exams and their answers from the library, carefully losing the face sheet that specified sample and the year. She sold these."

"But if people studied those answers they'd improve their answers for the real exam," put in Eliza quickly. "I was helping people. You can't blame me because Junior is a complete moron."

"So Eliza was scamming people which I assume is the reason she is here being reprimanded. What happened with Junior?"

"Part of the reason," agreed Mrs Fotheringham, giving Eliza a nasty look, "but just part of it. Junior, as Eliza just stated, is a complete moron. He took the old test answers into the exam room."

"What? He got caught with them? As they weren't this year's exam questions I'd have thought he could claim them as being study notes?"

"He didn't get caught. Neither did he read the exam questions. He just copied the answers from the old test against each question. By a coincidence there were ten questions and he had ten answers. The trouble was that the answers he had were totally irrelevant to the questions being asked."

Coach Bryan looked down at Eliza who was looking at him. She had a very odd look on her face. What was causing that, he wondered.

"So what is the situation with Junior now?"

"Confused. He's complaining that he gave us the correct answers and it's not his fault if we gave him the wrong test. His parents agree with him and are threatening to sue. Pointing out that even if he'd had the exam that he had the answers for he would have been washed out for cheating didn't help. They say it's our fault for letting him get away with cheating. I pointed out that we didn't, we've caught him, and they say it's our fault for catching him. You can see where he inherited his brains."

Eliza made a muffled sound drawing the eyes of both teachers to her. She was determinedly not looking at them.

"Well," said Mrs Fotheringham as she rose out of her chair, "I have finished my discussion with Eliza and I have to see the Principal to discuss the matter of Junior and his exam. You may wish to stay and have a few words of your own with Eliza, seeing she has cost you a player."

Mrs Fotheringham left, leaving Coach Bryan to have his own little chat with Eliza.

"How old are you Eliza," he asked with a sigh.

"Eighteen," she mumbled, apparently having difficulty at talking and too embarrassed to look at him.

"Eighteen and already embarking on a life of crime. How much did you make with your little scam?"

"About a hundred and it wasn't a scam. Not really. I warned anyone who bought the answers that I couldn't guarantee that the exam wouldn't change. They took their chances. Everyone passed but Junior and no-one asked for their money back. Ah, your hand."

The last seemed to be voiced a little desperately, the coach thought. What did she mean by his hand? Looking down he gave a small start. His fingertips were gliding softly over her bottom, easing the sting of the paddling she'd received. How long had he been doing that, he wondered.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "An automatic reflex. Comes from massaging bumps and bruises on team members, reducing possible bruises and relaxing muscles from cramps. I saw the redness and naturally took steps to ease it. Would you have refunded any of the money if asked?"

"No. I gave them fair warning. If they'd have had the sense to study old exams themselves they'd have known the answers were for an old test. I helped them by giving them material to study that would aid them in the exams. Several of them have thanked me for helping them pass. Um, you're still touching me."

"Like I said, just reducing the redness of your bottom and easing the sting. Don't worry about it. What did Junior say about the answers?"

"Um, when he complained I just told him it wasn't my fault they gave out the wrong exam. That was the school's responsibility. Ah, that's not my bottom you're rubbing."

Coach Bryan considered the situation.

"You're right," he admitted, "but it certainly seems flushed and swollen. I think I'll just continue with the massage for a little longer."

Eliza swallowed nervously, shifting restlessly, trying to ease herself away from the coach's hand. Not that it was of any use, he knew precisely what he was doing. She gave a startled gasp when a couple of fingers slipped between her lips and into her, touching her in places she knew he shouldn't. Actually, he shouldn't have been touching her anywhere, let alone down there.

"I'll thank you to take your hand away from there," she said, trying to sound calm and firm.

"Mm? Are you sure? I'd have thought a slightly longer massage might help."

"I'm sure."

"OK. If that's what you want."

She felt his fingers retreating, leaving her, and tried not to show her relief. Then her eyes widened and her breath stopped. His fingers had pushed her lips apart and that wasn't a finger pushing its way between them. Her breathing started again with a gasp, although her eyes were still wide open.

"What are you doing?"

"What you asked me to do. Replacing my hand with something more appropriate."

"I just said take you hand away. I didn't say anything about anything else happening."

"Be reasonable, Eliza. I couldn't leave you all swollen and suffering and not do something to assuage your need. Consider it my good deed for the day."

Eliza could feel his erection pushing steadily into her, already stretching her passage as it made its way along. He couldn't do this to her, she told herself, knowing full well that he not only could but was. She started to register a protest, breaking it off with an indecipherable cry as he gave a stronger push, his cock surging forward. Another push and another cry and she could feel his groin pressing against her, his cock fully inside her.

"You can't do this. I was a virgin. This is totally unreasonable behaviour on your part. You stop it right now."

"I'm sure you were a virgin," agreed Coach Bryan, "but I might take issue as to how recently you were a virgin. Seeing as you're so untutored, do you want instructions on what to do now?"

"No. And I was almost a virgin. You didn't know that I wasn't when you did that."

What the hell do you think my fingers were doing while they were exploring you, coach wondered? Of course I bloody knew. Coach Bryan pulled slowly back and returned, moving firmly but not too fast, giving Eliza a chance to react to his thrust, pleased when after a moment's hesitation she pushed against him, helping him drive deeply into her.

Another relatively cautious stroke, slowly back and firmly home again, finding Eliza ready to push to meet him as soon as he started in again. Satisfied that she was going to cooperate with no problems Coach Bryan settled down to giving Eliza the massage she so obviously needed.

Eliza was gasping as the coach drove into her. He was big and hard and what little experience she had had had certainly not prepared her for this. She pushed hard to meet him as he surged into her, feeling herself to be absolutely full of cock. Every move he made seemed to register with her and lust was suddenly a force to be reckoned with. Guttural little cries were escaping her as he continued on his merry way, using her body for his own gratification.

"You shouldn't be doing this," she managed to gasp out. "You know you shouldn't."

"That's quite possibly true," Coach Bryan agreed, driving in with gusto. "If you want me to stop perhaps you should say so."

Stop? Was he kidding? When he'd already brought her to the state she was currently in?

"No," she gasped, horrified at the thought he might stop.

"No, you say?" queried the coach, pulling right out. Reaching over he turned an appalled Eliza to face him. "You want me to stop?"

"What? What? What are you doing? You can't stop now," Eliza half shrieked at him.

"Oh my god," she added, looking down and seeing the size of his erection.

Even as she watched he was moving closer to her, his cock moving between her legs and then once again it was driving brutally up and into her. Thankful that he'd resumed she pushed to meet him. Oddly enough it seemed different now. She was watching his cock as it drove into her, seeing it vanish even as she felt it surging forth and filling her. The erotic visual thrilled her, her excitement kicking up a notch as he did his best to reduce her to a bundle of screaming nerves.

Coach Bryan was amused by the way Eliza seemed to be fascinated with watching his cock moving into her. For a while it seemed she couldn't keep her eyes off it. Unfortunately for her, her excitement was starting to take control of her. Her attention was captured by the sensations she was feeling, dragging her away from the cock that was causing those feelings. Her eyes closed and she just let it all happen, her body moving in rhythm to the coach's.

Feeling the time was right the coach started driving in harder, pushing Eliza along as he entered his end-game. A few thrusts with a little extra oomph and she was gone, shaking and shivering as her climax swept through her, Coach Bryan enjoying his at the same time.

Hastily straightening up her clothes Eliza didn't know what to say. Coach Bryan seemed smugly pleased with himself.

"I'm quite sure that was against school rules," she grumbled. "What would the school board say if they found out?"

Not that she had any intention of complaining, but it would be nice to think she had a teacher under her thumb.

"I really have no idea," said the smiling coach. "Here's a question for you. What will Junior do if he finds out that you sold him dud answers and that it's your fault he's now off the team?"

That put a different light on things. Junior would kill her if he thought his problems were her fault. Which they weren't. She wasn't to blame because he was a moron. Try explaining that to Junior. She shuddered delicately at the thought.

"Point," she agreed. "Probably better we don't mention what happened."

"Probably," agreed Coach Bryan, wondering how to get her alone again.