Date: Wed, 16 Aug 2000 09:44:27 -0700 (PDT)
From: Conor O'Leary <conor500@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baseball Team Rapes Teacher, Part 5

             Baseball Team Rapes Teacher
         Part 5:  Parent-Teacher Conference
                     by Conor


Mr. Flanagan was sitting at his desk in his classroom,
thinking about how much his life had changed in the
past few months.  He could not believe that he had
become a sex slave for this ever-expanding group of
boys -- not to mention one demented baseball coach.
The teacher hated to admit that he often enjoyed the
abuse.  But still, he knew he had to find a way to end
it.

It was the end of the marking period, and report cards
were due.  Mr. Flanagan knew he could use this to his
advantage.  He knew that athletes were not allowed to
play if they received even one failing grade.  While
most of the boys who had raped him were out of his
reach, one was not.  Kevin, the captain of the
baseball team and the leader of the assaults, was in
Mr. Flanagan's 3rd-period class.  If he simply gave
Kevin a failing grade, he would not be able to play
this season.  Perhaps that would persuade the boy to
finally end these attacks.

Mr. Flanagan was determined to finally stand up to
these boys.  After all, they were only BOYS.  He could
not let them control him any longer.  So, in the box
next to Kevin's name, Mr. Flanagan wrote a "D".

A week later the report cards went home.  The next
day, as Kevin passed Mr. Flanagan's desk, he simply
said, "You're gonna pay for this, fag."  The teacher
tried to ignore him.  He wasn't worried.  After all,
what more could Kevin do to hurt him?

*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

"This has been the longest day," thought Mr. Flanagan
as he sat in his classroom at 8:30 p.m.  It was
parent-teacher conference night, and the teacher had
been at the school for over 12 hours.  He had already
done 12 conferences, and he only had one more to go.
He looked at his schedule to see who was next.
"Richard Thompson."  Oh great, thought Mr. Flanagan,
it's Kevin's dad.  This should be interesting.

After a few minutes there was a knock on the door, and
in walked Mr. Thompson, who Mr. Flanagan knew was a
big-shot lawyer downtown.  And behind him came Kevin,
who shut the door behind him.  This was odd.  While
students were allowed to attend the conferences, very
few chose to do so, and Mr. Flanagan got a little
nervous when he saw Kevin.

"Mr. Thompson, how are you?" said Mr. Flanagan as they
shook hands.  "Hello, Kevin."  Neither Kevin nor his
father said anything.  Mr. Flanagan took a moment to
check out the handsome lawyer.  He looked like a
larger version of Kevin.  He was about 6-foot-2, and
he looked like he kept in shape.  He was wearing a
dark suit with a power tie.

"Would you like to have a seat?" Mr. Flanagan asked,
trying to be nice.  Still, neither said a word.  The
teacher sat down on his desk, wondering what these two
were up to.

Then Kevin looked up at his dad, and Mr. Thompson
spoke.  "I'm here for two reasons, Mr. Flanagan.
First, I need to ask you to reconsider Kevin's grade
in your class."  He paused, waiting for Mr. Flanagan
to respond.

"Well, Mr. Thompson," said the teacher, "the quality
of Kevin's work has fallen off quite a bit, and --"

Mr. Thompson cut him off.  "Mr. Flanagan, I'm not here
to get excuses.  I'm here to see that my son receives
a B in your class.  If we can't come to an agreement,
there are always legal means to handle such
situations."

"Well, sir, I don't really see how this is a legal
issue," argued Mr. Flanagan, who was starting to get
nervous.

Mr. Thompson laughed.  "Oh, I believe we could come up
with something.  Don't you agree, son?"  Kevin just
smiled.

Oh my god, thought Mr. Flanagan, his mind whirling.
He knew!  Kevin's father knew what had been going on!
At that point, Mr. Flanagan really believed he would
be going to jail.  Jesus, how did he get into this
mess?

Father and son were looking at the teacher, awaiting a
response.  "Okay," he said, "I'll change the grade."
Please, he thought, please let that be enough for him.


"I'm glad," said Mr. Thompson with a smile.  "But
remember, I said I was here for two reasons.  We have
worked out the grade issue, but there is a much larger
issue we must still discuss."

Oh no, thought Mr. Flanagan.  "And what is that?"

"It appears," the lawyer began, "that you have been
taking advantage of my son in a sexual way.  Of
course, as I said before there are always legal means
to deal with such situations.  But I feel that we
could work this one out on our own.  Without going to
the police."  Clearly, his last line was meant as a
threat.

Mr. Flanagan was beginning to realize that Mr.
Thompson was just as sick and cruel as his son, if not
more so.  He tried to think of a way to avoid getting
into a "compromising position," but he couldn't think
of anything.  "So, Mr. Thompson, what do you suggest?"

Mr. Thompson looked the teacher straight in the eye.
"I suggest you get down on your knees and suck my
cock, you faggot."

A couple months ago, such a statement would have
shocked Mr. Flanagan.  But after all that he had
experienced, it didn't startle him a bit.  He simply
sighed, then knelt down on the floor in front of the
tall lawyer, and reached for his crotch.  He unbuckled
Mr. Thompson's belt, and then unzipped his fly.  His
suit pants fell down to his ankles, and Mr. Flanagan
reached to pull down the paisley boxer shorts.

When he removed Mr. Thompson's underwear, Mr. Flanagan
could see that there was indeed quite of a family
resemblance between Kevin and his father.  Mr.
Thompson's soft cock was 8 inches long and as big
around as Mr. Flanagan's wrist.  Mr. Flanagan sucked
the big cockhead into his mouth and immediately felt
the huge soft beast begin to grow.  Within a few
seconds, Mr. Thompson's dick was completely hard.

At 11 inches, his hardon wasn't quite as long as his
son's, but it was a bit thicker.  For the first time
in quite some time, Mr. Flanagan was having difficulty
deep-throating a cock.  He had been practicing since
he was 14 years old, and in the past few months he'd
been getting quite a workout with Kevin's foot-long
rod.  But Mr. Thompson's big, thick monster was almost
more than the cocksucking teacher could handle.  As
the lawyer slammed his huge cock deep down his throat,
Mr. Flanagan began to gag and choke.

"What's wrong, Mr. Flanagan?" jeered Kevin, who had
removed his pants and was stroking his foot-long club.
 "You've had plenty of practice at that.  Go on Dad,
fuck his god damn face!"

Mr. Thompson, clearly wanting to impress his son,
began to pound his big dick in and out of the servile
teacher without mercy.  Mr. Flanagan's mouth and
throat were stretched more than ever before, and he
was having trouble breathing.  Just as he thought he
could take no more, he heard Kevin's voice:  "Okay,
Dad, why don't you give him a break."

Mr. Flanagan was surprised by Kevin's sympathy, but he
was relieved when his father pulled his monstrous
erection out of his mouth.  Before Mr. Flanagan had a
chance to catch his breath, however, Kevin surprised
him again.  The boy put his hands on the back of his
teacher's head and slammed his cock into his mouth.
"It's my turn!"

While Mr. Flanagan was relieved by the slight
reduction in width, he found himself gagging on the
extra inch in length.  Soon, though, the teacher
became used to the familiar size of Kevin's pole, and
he concentrated on giving the high schooler the best
blow job he could.

Meanwhile, Mr. Thompson was getting bored.  He thought
of something his son had told him.  "Is it true what
you said, Kevin?" he asked his son.  "Is it true that
this faggot teacher's ass feels even better than
pussy?"

Kevin laughed.  "Yeah, Dad, his ass feels so fucking
great!  And he loves it, too!  Don't you, Flanagan?"

That was all the persuasion the horse-hung lawyer
needed.  He took off Mr. Flanagan's belt and pulled
down his pants, revealing the teacher's tight, round
ass.  Mr. Thompson wasn't familiar with the idea of
lube, so he just lined his fat cockhead up against the
hole and, with one thrust, impaled Mr. Flanagan upon
his long, fat cock.

Mr. Flanagan had never felt such pain in his life.  He
would have screamed, but Kevin's cock plugged up his
mouth.  His ass was stretching and tearing to
accommodate the 3-inch width of Mr. Thompson's
fuckpole.  As the man began to slide in and out, Mr.
Flanagan felt like his ass was being torn apart.  It
felt like his delicate organs were being crushed, and
some of them probably were.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah!" screamed Mr. Thompson.  "It's so
tight, so hot!  Look at me, Kevin, I'm fucking your
teacher just like I fuck your mother!"

Kevin was extremely turned on by the entire situation.
 Watching his father fuck his teacher's ass was
putting him over the edge.  In a few moments, Kevin
pulled his big cock out of Mr. Flanagan's mouth and
stroked it hard and fast.  Cum started to shoot out of
the hard horsecock, and Kevin shot as much of it as he
could on his teacher's face.

Mr. Flanagan felt the cum shoot into his mouth, his
eyes, and his hair.  And he could still feel Kevin's
studly father fucking his ass deep and hard and fast,
faster by the minute.  He had never felt anything like
it before, and he knew his ass would be sore and
tender for days.

Soon, the lawyer was ready.  He plowed his pole into
the teacher one last time and shot load after load of
hot, sticky cum deep into his body.  Mr. Thompson was
screaming - he had never felt anything so hot in his
life.  When he finally stopped shooting, he pulled his
cock out of the ravaged teacher and stood up.  He
aimed the softening beast at Mr. Flanagan, who was
still on the floor, and unloaded a hot stream of piss
onto his body.  Mr. Thompson covered him in piss from
head to toe, and soon Kevin, impressed by his father's
depravity, joined in.

Soon, Mr. Flanagan was covered in a sea of cum and
piss, but he was too worn out to resist.  He just laid
on the floor and accepted his fate.

Mr. Thompson shook the last few drops of his urine
onto the teacher and said, "Well, Mr. Flanagan, I hope
you've learned not to try to fuck with the Thompson
family, because, as you see, we're the ones who fuck
you."  He dropped his business card onto Mr.
Flanagan's piss- and cum-soaked ass.  "Here's my
number if you need to reach me."

With that, father and son put their clothes back on
and walked out the door, leaving the humiliated
teacher laying in a pool of piss and cum.  Mr.
Flanagan didn't know whether to cry or jerk off, so he
did both.  Despite the pain and horror of the past
half-hour, he was still turned on by these sex gods.

Yes, thought Mr. Flanagan, this is my destiny.


To be continued...

==================================
I hope you enjoyed Part 5.  I'd like to write more,
but I haven't been getting much feedback lately.  If
you liked this episode and would like to see more,
email me at conor500@yahoo.com.  Also email me if you
have any ideas or suggestions for future episodes.  Thanks!!!