weird English teacher

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

When I was in junior high school, I attended a school in the county town. Because it was far from home, I decided to live at school.

The school was quite dilapidated, but I didn't pay much attention at the time. My family asked if there was a place to stay at the school, and the principal smiled broadly, saying, "Yes, yes, yes, there's plenty of space." After my family left, the principal took me to my room, which was a warehouse filled with all sorts of odds and ends—flags, tables, and some musical instruments, a trumpet and a drum. It was clear that no one had cleaned it for a long time, and it was covered in dust. I was very dissatisfied with this situation and said, "Didn't you say there were dormitories?" "All the students here are day students; you're the only one who lives on campus," the principal said. "It wouldn't be worth it for the school to build a separate dormitory just for you." I didn't know what to do. There were plenty of schools in the county town, but my score wasn't high enough to get into this one.

"I'll get you a bed and a table," the principal said, gesturing as he spoke. He looked to be over sixty years old; not only were his temples white, but his beard was too. Since he was so insistent on keeping me there, I felt embarrassed to refuse.

I nodded, and the principal's face lit up with a smile again. He said with a beaming smile, "I guarantee you'll have a more comfortable dormitory than other schools. You'll even have a single room!" I hadn't realized the principal was such a humorous person. Since he was trying to make me laugh, I could only smile back.

He really meant what he said; he said he'd get it done today, and he actually did! He found some students who helped me carry my bed and move my desk. They even offered to clean, but I refused, not because I felt bad about it, but because I didn't want them to dirty my bed. I knew they'd be clumsy when they cleaned.

The new semester started, and the teachers were all elderly men and women. That's understandable; what younger person would want to stay in a place like this? Not only is it remote and desolate, but the facilities are also so outdated. Yet, I'm quite happy to study here. The pace is slow, as if time has stood still. During class, most students are dozing off, while I'm the only one fully alert. Sometimes, even the teacher falls asleep while reading the text, which frustrates me. Whenever this happens, I always wake the teacher up without hesitation, so the teacher always praises me for being studious, hardworking, and diligent.

The English teacher is sick, and the school found a substitute. She's obviously a slut—always puffing out her chest, as if afraid no one will see her breasts; her hair is dyed yellow, and besides giving off a superficial impression, it also suggests that I, this flower, have already blossomed.

She also had a lot of laughs. In class, she would be reciting words and would laugh so hard she'd shake all over. When asked what was wrong, she would say, "This word reminds me of someone." Then she would start telling us all about the person she was thinking of. People like that are often very promiscuous, either her classmates or her colleagues. She would talk about how they went drinking or clubbing together. She was also shameless in talking about her classmates' or colleagues' sex lives. She would say that a woman met a man, the man made advances, and when the woman refused, she would call him an idiot and say, "Why can't you have some fun?" Several times I couldn't help but want to ask her how many men she had slept with, but I was afraid and kept holding back.

Once in class, she started talking about one of her colleagues, describing their lovemaking in the woods, how big the man's penis was, and how much pleasure the woman had. I couldn't hold back anymore and said, "How could you possibly see that from that far away?" I didn't think much of it at the time, but as soon as I stopped talking, the classroom fell silent. The teacher didn't say anything for a long time. Then a boy spoke up for the teacher, saying, "What did you say? Tell me the truth." I put on a defiant look. I was genuinely angry at that moment. How could a teacher talk about such things in class all day long? Seeing that I didn't seem to admit my mistake, she got angry too. She tapped the lectern with her pointer and pointed outside, saying, "Get out!" Fine, I got out. I stood up and walked outside the classroom. She wouldn't let it go. It seemed like my words had made her lose the will to continue. A few minutes after I left, she came out too, grabbed my ear, and dragged me to the office. It was still early before the end of get out of class—our classes here are held in two periods without a break in between, meaning each class is an hour and a half—there wasn't a single teacher in the office. She came in and locked the door.

She first hit my legs and back with a pointer, glaring at me as she did so, saying, "I'll show you what you're made of, I'll show you what you're made of." It hadn't been long since school started, and I was wearing very thin clothes, so I endured the pain without crying.

Seeing that I didn't cry, she became even angrier, pointing the pointer at my pants and saying, "Take your pants off." This gave me courage, and I said, "No." "You'll take them off or not!" She hit me again, then pressed me against the desk and pulled down my pants. I thought she would hit my buttocks with the pointer, but instead, she held my body down with her left hand, and her right hand slid down my buttocks to my crotch, grabbing my penis. My penis had never been touched by a woman before, and her grab immediately aroused it, standing erect like a cobra. Although I tried to suppress it, it was useless; the harder she pressed, the harder it became.

"You're covered in white hair and you call others monsters," she said, flipping me over and vigorously stroking my penis. I tried to scream, but she silenced me with her tongue. My first time was ruined like that.

From then on, I never dared to talk back to her in class again, and I didn't even dare to look her in the eye. That time, she made my penis red and swollen for several days. Unexpectedly, misfortune never comes alone. The old teacher's condition not only did not improve, but worsened, and she was transferred from the county hospital to the city hospital. The English teacher's classes suddenly started from the beginning of the school year and lasted until New Year's Day.

She told the principal that she wanted to live at the school, saying that her home was too far away and it was too cold in the mornings and evenings. The principal took her to my place, which, in the principal's words, was just "making do."

I felt a chill run down my spine when I saw her, but I didn't dare to say anything. She, on the other hand, had a wicked smile on her face when she saw me. Even when the principal was around, she dared to smile wickedly and say to me, "So you live here." I was doomed. I wanted to move out, but I had to have a reason. I didn't dare to tell the principal about that.

I slept with trepidation the first night, constantly worried that she would suddenly jump into my bed. But in the latter half of the night, I was overjoyed. It wasn't that she climbed into my bed and made me feel good, but rather that I discovered a problem with her: she snores. This was fantastic! I'd tell the principal tomorrow, and he'd surely find me another place to stay or let me go. After all, I was a model student the teachers always talked about; what if my grades dropped?

I happily fell asleep, but when I woke up the next morning, I saw a terrifying face. It was my English teacher, sitting on the edge of my bed, leaning over and staring at me. She had been awake for a while, not only washed her face but also put on makeup.

She licked her lips first, then said, "What did you hear last night?" I didn't know what to say, so I shook my head. She sat up straight and said, "I know I snore. Listen to me, if you dare tell anyone about this—"—she swiftly reached into my blanket and grabbed my penis, then said, word by word—"Watch out for your manhood." I loved going to class, for a simple reason: I didn't have to go back to the dorm when I was in class, and if I didn't go back to the dorm, I wouldn't see my English teacher, and if I didn't see her, I wouldn't be on edge.

One evening, she was grading papers at her desk. Since she came, that desk had been hers—I sat on the bed warming the blankets. "Li Xiang, is the blanket warm enough?" she suddenly said out of the blue.

I didn't know what she meant, so I said directly, "Almost." "Warm mine up too." I've seen people bullied before, but I've never seen anyone bullied like this. I took off my shirt and got into bed. "I'm talking to you, Li Xiang, didn't you hear me?" I pretended to be asleep and ignored her. But how could I sleep? Who knew what she would do to me? A moment later, the light went out, followed by the rustling sound of clothes being taken off. My blanket was pulled back, and she slipped into my bed.

She hugged me from behind, one hand around my neck, the other gripping my penis. She whispered in my ear, "I wasn't going to touch you, but you're so disobedient." And sure enough, my penis got hard again.

"So exciting! She vigorously rubbed my penis, kissing my face and lips. Her hand left my penis, and I thought she was done. But then she lay on top of me, shoving her nipple into my mouth, pleading, 'Good Li Xiang, be good, suck your sister's nipple, oh~, so good! I haven't tasted a man's touch in half a year!' She then pressed my head harder against her breasts, as if that wasn't enough. She frantically licked my body with her tongue, my tongue moving downwards until it finally took my entire penis into her mouth. She licked it while moaning, completely unable to stop. A wave of pleasure washed over me, my penis twitched a few times in her mouth, and then I was exhausted.

" "Was it good?" She whispered in my ear while lying on top of me. I didn't answer. She pulled me up, lay down on the blanket, and said as she took off her underwear, "It's my turn to have fun." There was no light in the dormitory. By the moonlight, I think I saw a woman's vulva. It was a dark patch, with pubic hair and labia, all very dark in color, making it impossible to distinguish where the hair ended and the labia began. She rubbed it herself for a while, and immediately a pungent smell wafted up. She took my hand and rubbed it. My labia were wet and soft, and the feel was nice, but it felt too dirty.

"Come on, lick it for me," she said, lying there naked, in a tone that was half-commanding and half-negotiating.

In this situation, who was afraid of whom? I firmly said, "No." She had already prepared herself for pleasure, but when she heard me say no, she raised her head and looked at me pleadingly, saying, "Why?" "Too dirty," I said.

"What did you say?"

I made a disgusted face and said, "Too dirty."

"You dare call me dirty?" Without saying a word, she grabbed my head and pressed it against her labia. I resisted with all my might, managing to keep my mouth shut, but my nose suffered. She kept rubbing my nose against hers, and it burned. I wanted to scream, but then I remembered that we were the only two people in the whole school.

She was satisfied and let go of my head. I thought it was over, but then she grabbed my hand and shoved it into her vagina. That wasn't too hard to accept, so I gave her my right hand and used my left hand to soothe my nose. Something came out of my nose; I wasn't sure if it was snot or blood. My hand was inside her vagina, and she suddenly tightened her grip a few times. She let out a few screams. I thought it was over, so I pulled my hand out of her body. She lay there motionless. I nudged her and said, "Get up, I want to sleep." "You want to sleep?" she said smugly. "Okay, grant me one request and I'll let you sleep." "I need to pee." "Go to the toilet if you want to pee." Spending so much time with her made me shameless.

"I don't want to go to the toilet, I want to pee in your mouth." Saying that, she pushed me onto the bed, pinning my arms down with her legs, her vulva pressed completely against my mouth. I tried to turn my head away, but she held it down with her hand. She kept rubbing her labia against my lips, moaning and groaning. I thought she wasn't going to pee anymore, but it turned out she was just waiting for me to open my mouth. No way! Just as I thought that, she started saying,

"Open your mouth." I didn't open it, so she started pulling my hair, making me whimper in pain. There was nothing she could do, she waited until I swallowed all the pee in my mouth before she got off my head. Thinking about it now, it was truly humiliating.

I thought that kind of thing didn't happen often, but I didn't expect that one incident was like a breach in a riverbank; it just kept happening. I couldn't stand her making me drink her urine every night. Sometimes she didn't need to urinate, so I had to wait a while. She would drink some water first, and then make me drink it when she had time. She wouldn't let me sleep if I didn't drink her urine.

I decided to get revenge, but I didn't know how. One day, when she wasn't around, I urinated into her teacup. When she didn't need to urinate, she was very obedient, but once she started urinating, she became unruly. I urinated all at once before stopping and slowly drinking the cup. I hadn't even poured any water yet; I was just about to pour some out when she came back.

When she saw me holding her teacup, she snatched it away and said, "What are you doing with my teacup?" As she spoke, she even took a sip.

I thought, "I'm doomed." I was sure she could tell. But she didn't stop. Instead, she glanced at me and drank the whole glass of urine in one gulp. I was stunned. I thought I was done for. I thought I was going to faint, but someone caught me. I looked and saw it was her. Her mouth was bulging. She brought her mouth close to mine and then transferred the liquid from her mouth to mine... What should I do? What should I do? I definitely couldn't concentrate on my studies anymore. My grades plummeted. All my teachers talked to me, even the PE teacher—after all that nightly exertion, I had no energy left for running the next day.

When I saw the PE teacher, I couldn't hold back anymore. I said, "I haven't been sleeping well at night." The PE teacher was usually the kindest to me. He thought I was in heat and told me not to think like that. He said my age is for studying, and I'd regret it if I missed it. I was incredibly touched and told him everything. Of course, I omitted the humiliation and downplayed the pleasure.

"Is that so?"

I nodded, feeling so wronged I wanted to cry.

"How about this?" the PE teacher suggested. "You can spend the night in the equipment room, and I promise she won't bother you tomorrow." "Really?"

"Of course." The PE teacher even gave a mysterious smile.

That night I slept in the equipment room, but I couldn't sleep at all. It was cold, and it felt like there were mice moving around. They would make a sudden noise here and there. The more I thought about it, the more scared I became. Could it be a snake? The grass on campus is so tall in the summer; it wouldn't be surprising if there were snakes.

I decided to go back and check. If they weren't there, I would sleep in the dormitory. I tiptoed to the dormitory door, pressed my ear against it, and listened for any sounds. There was no sound at all. Were they both not there?

I quietly pushed open the door, but there was still no sound. I turned on the light, and the scene before me startled me:

the PE teacher was tied to the bed, his mouth stuffed with two stockings. On top of him lay the English teacher, equally panting, naked and covered in feces, with a bloody stain on the sheet.

I completely lost all sense of reason. I hysterically yelled at them, "What are you doing—?" The PE teacher tried to say something, but couldn't. The English teacher looked at him with infinite tenderness, removed the stockings from his mouth, and said, "I'm helping you teach your teacher a lesson. She's promised not to bother you again." I continued to yell hysterically, "Get up, both of you! This is my bed—"

[The End]

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