Date: Sat, 27 May 2006 05:41:15 -0500 From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com> Subject: Mr. Kent's Boys Pt 5 - I Get Feedback Copyright 2006 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission. Please note: this story depicts oral, anal, sado-masochistic and group sex between males. If any of these offend you or are illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further. The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you. ----- Part Five - I Get Feedback I began reading the first paper aloud: "Cunt is awsum. he sucks reel good. i like it lots." "Hey, hey, that's mine!" "Oh, good," I said glancing at the scrawl at the bottom of the page, "then you must be Pepe." "Yeah, he's peepee!!" "Watch it, fat ass. Dont be dissin my name." "Well, Pepe, I'm glad you think I'm, uhm, awesome. Thank you. Let's see what the next one has to say." "i sticks my dik in cunts mowf n i gets this feelin like i is finely gonna get it off n feels good agin." "Hmm, no name on that page." "That's mine, Teach." "OK, Hernando." I wrote his name on his paper. "Always be proud enough of your work to sign it. Never be ashamed to claim anything you write. Look, what did I write on the board?" "Mr. Cunt." "That's right. In here, that is now my name. And I'm proud of it. I want to be the best fuckin' teach you ever had. And damn it, you're going to be the best fuckin' students I ever had." Three boys got up, came forward and pulled their papers out of the stack to write their names on them, and then sat back down. "Good. So anyway, Hernando gave me some excellent feedback." "Better than mine?" "Well, yes, I'm afraid so, Pepe. You see your paper dealt in generalities. It was awesome. It was good. I liked it. Hernando was more specific. He describes the tension he feels before sex, and how ejaculation relieves that tension. In writing, `specific is terrific.'" I wrote the catch phrase on the board. "Now let's see what Peter has to say. Oh, by the way, Peter, I saw Englehart paying you Saturday. How much was I worth?" We both laughed. "Read ma paper n then yoo figger what yoo worth, Cunt." "Fair enough." "whens cunts neelin in front me i feel like power like i jist made a tuchdown n ever1s rootin 4 me. n when his tong flix ma slit i gets this jelly feelin in ma legs n thn ma stummick gets all tite n i get a spazm but not jist in ma dik but in ma hole body lik sum sorta lectric shok n i dont no y but i smells ma girls perfoom too." "Oh, Wow. Peter." "Was that spefizic, Teach?" "Specific is terrific," Hernando read from the board. "Yes, class, Peter was definitely very specific. And he did something else too. He used his senses. He wrote about what he felt and even what he smelled. That's good writing. You want to use all your senses." I added a list to the board: Eyes, ears, taste, smell, feeling. I decided not to mention that the football reference was a metaphor, tempting as that was. Maybe in a later lesson. After reading a couple more papers, I wrote on the board the old writing saw, `Don't tell me. Show me." "What the fuck that mean, Teach?" "Well, remember last week my first day here? You wanted me to know why you were in charge. You wanted me to understand it was because of the size of your manhood." "Yoo mean are diks!" "Yes, well, anyway, you could have told me you had huge dicks, but you didn't. Instead you dropped your pants and showed me! That's what good writing does. Instead of telling me you like something, it's far better to show me that you like it. I read the rest of their papers. My lowest performance grade came from Emer. "cunts bj was ok i guess but i wanted to do it slower. he was rushin. he seem b thinkin bout nex guy not bout me." "Hey, Emer, why dont yoo shut up. Dont go dissin Mr Cunt like that." I had to smile to myself remembering how they compared me to shit on the day I arrived. Were some of them starting to get fond of me? "Yoo aint the only dick here yoo know." "No, Emer was right. In fact he probably gave me the most valuable feedback of all. He gave me something to work on. He showed me how I could improve. It's true. When I have a cock in my mouth, I should be concentrating on that guy only and not be distracted by the others in the room. Never be reluctant to give negative criticism. Believe me, boys, you've given me some important feedback here. I'm going to go home tonight and study these carefully. Because I really want to do better on Wednesday. See you then." I was very pleased with myself. Not only did I get to suck every lad in the room again, but I also tricked them into a writing lesson. Talk about killing two birds. That night I looked at the face in the mirror and gave it a big thumbs up. "Cunt, you're a damn fine teacher." For two days, I pored over their papers as if they were priceless documents. I learned a great deal from their primitive scrawls. The papers told me about their sexual appetites of course, what each boy liked in oral sex, but between the lines they also taught me a lot about each boy's creative potential. And in addition I was finally able to learn their names. The six football players were Malcolm (#11), a husky black dude; Antonio (#42), white, also husky and particularly well endowed; Hernando of course; and Emer, Peter, and Reggie, three rednecks. The four basketball players were all black inner city studs: Slim Jim, Pepe, Carl, and Ronnie.