Crazy Adventures of Shannon Hannigan

"Farm? You mean grandma's farm?! But it's in the middle of nowhere, and she's dead!"

"Exactly," my mom nodded. "You'll be on your own to sin or not as you please, and hopefully it'll be a bit harder to do so. Plus, we expect you to do farm chores. Maybe that'll keep you in check!"

I groaned. Maybe sinning really does earn you a one way ticket to hell because that's exactly where it sounded like I was going. I knew better than to argue. My parents were strict, and never changed their minds.

They drove me out to my grandma's farm, which they had inherited upon her death, and dropped me off. They informed me that they were transferring me to the local school, and that the bus stop was at the end of the nearly mile long driveway. Great! I sighed sarcastically.

I guess I should be grateful that they were leaving me with a box of food, keys to my grandma's old clunker -- thank god it still worked! -- and plenty of money to buy more food for myself when I ran out.

The next day, I missed the bus despite honestly trying to get to the stop on time. I decided that since I had to drive myself anyway, I may as well take my time. I dolled up, and arrived in the middle of second period.

This school was tiny compared to my other one, and I instantly realized that everyone was going to know who I was by the end of the day. Oh well, at least they don't know why I am here. I think I will actually miss the piece by Beethoven that they played to signal the end of each class at my old school. You know Dun Dun Dun Dun!

I walked into my second period -- history -- and stared at the teacher like he was a freak.

"Ah, Miss Hannigan," he greeted. "Class, this is our new student, Shannon Hannigan. I expect everyone to make her feel welcome."

I still stared at him like he was a freak, and he noticed my stare. He cleared his throat. "Miss Hannigan, you have come just in time to study Scottish history. I am of Scottish decent, and like to wear my clan kilt during Scottish week."

I nodded my head in a way that probably made it clear that I still found him very odd, and he gestured me to en empty seat right up front, in the middle. I sat, and listened as he did his job. He even went so far as to speak with a Scottish accent, and I found it a bit annoying.

Finally, class was over, and the bell rang. It was an old school bell, and it seemed appropriate that this tiny school would still use it. I listened to it ring, and froze.

You know, now that I think about it, my teacher is pretty handsome, and his kilt is just so tempting! I would not be able to move from this spot until I had taken a peak up inside it. I decided to catch him unawares.

I leapt from my desk to right in front of him, dropped to my knees, lifted the front of his kilt, and took his mostly limp penis in my mouth. It was amazing how fast it grew to full size! I hummed in pleasure, and could not believe how good it felt to have him in my mouth.

"Miss Hannigan! Stop that at once! Miss Hannigan?! Stop I say! Stop, Sto...p... Sto..."

My teacher went weak in the knees, and fell against his blackboard. He braced himself on the chalk tray, and I heard him stutter, "St... st.. st.." He started to pant, and I tasted the drops of his pre-cum.

I continued my task, and marveled at how big he was. He couldn't fit into my mouth! I used my hands a bit more than I'd had to previously, and worked on getting him down my throat.

He started to push on the top of my head, like he remembered that he was supposed to stop me, but he put practically no effort into pushing me away. I laughed, and felt his shaft twitch in response. I fondled his balls, and felt them shrink slightly.

Oh goody! Here it comes! I eagerly drank all he had to give me, and kept sucking until I had every last drop.

He was panting heavily, and I felt extremely pleased with myself. I had such an awesome power in my mouth! I bet that if I blew the president, he'd help me get rich and famous!

I finally slid my mouth off of him with a loud pop, and grinned up at him.

"Miss Hannigan!" He panted, and I could tell that he was torn between congratulating me on a job well done, and scolding me for my inappropriate behavior. I laughed. I bet he has never had such a good blowjob in his life!

I finally noticed that the rest of my class was staring at me in shock. Oh... right! Students didn't normally suck off their teacher without warning or permission just because the bell rang. And that's when it hit me; that sonovabitch! He really had hypnotized me into having an overwhelming urge to blow a guy whenever I heard a bell ring!

I glared at everyone as I marched to the principal's office. She was an old woman... a really old woman. She had to be pushing 90!

"Miss Hannigan," she addressed me, sounding like one of those old women I'd seen on TV who sounded like they thought they were better than everyone else. "I don't know what you youngsters think is appropriate these days, but in my day a girl never put such a thing in her mouth in class! We waited for the appropriate time afterwards when no one else would see us!"

I raised one eyebrow, and tried to decide if she had meant to say that, or if she had meant to say something else and had gotten it mixed up. She silently dared me to say something. I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.

"Really! The shame of it! You are just lucky that there were enough witnesses to attest that Mr. Ferguson was innocent else he'd have lost his job immediately! I'm afraid that I have no choice but to expel you, effective immediately."

She turned to Mr. Ferguson, who had finally entered the office. "Why on Earth weren't you wearing a pair of briefs or some boxers?"

"A true Scotsman doesn't wear anything under his kilt! How was I to know that she'd -" He opted not to go into detail.

Whatever, I had more important things to do. Such as figure out how to unhypnotize myself. I turned and left. If I could just fix what was wrong with me, I could go back home, and this wouldn't matter anyway.

Over the course of the next month, I was insanely busy! I received a bunch of chickens and a cow from my parents, and had clear instructions not to let them die. With so much to do caring for them and fixing up the farmhouse, I didn't have time to do anything else!

I received a packet in the mail from the school that had expelled me telling me how to study and test for my GED, or how to enroll in the virtual academy, and I let that slide until I caught up on all my farm chores. I really wish I had someone to show me what to do, figuring it all out myself was frustrating!

I eventually remembered to study, test, and obtain my GED, and I remembered to see a psychologist about my unusual condition. I could tell that he didn't believe me. It became perfectly obvious when he laughed, and then rang a bell.

He was in the middle of saying, "See! You are not -" when I pounced on him. He fought me off a bit more vigorously than my teacher had, but I still got him to spill his load for me in the end. He stared at me in astonishment, and referred me to a female. I should have thought of that to begin with!

All she did was disbelieve me too, and when she rang her bell, I had no men to attack. This did not mean that I attacked her instead, and for a moment, I thought nothing would happen. I was proven wrong when I paced her office in agitation until I saw a man walk by outside her window.

I frantically opened her window, pushed out the screen, and jumped out. Thankfully, her office was on the first floor! I tackled the man to the ground, unzipped him, and gave him the best head he had ever had in his life. I could tell by the look on his face.

He was probably in his 50's, and his shocked wife tried to beat me off her husband with her purse. I swear I couldn't even feel it! I finished getting him off, and then apologized profusely. I couldn't believe that I had actually attacked him!

"No problem!" He assured me, and his wife gasped in outrage. She started to attack him with her purse.

My therapist raced out of the building the correct way, and quickly explained that I was a mental patient with uncontrollable urges. This pacified the wife, and the couple continued on their way. I couldn't help but smirk as they walked away. Should I point out that his pants are still unzipped?

There was nothing the therapists could do to help me, though they tried everything they could think of. I stopped going to them, and vowed to just stay away from bells.

I was successful... until the next time I went grocery shopping, and drove by the church at noon. I completely startled the first altar boy I saw -- who was thankfully well in his teens. I was so glad that no one saw that! I sped home, and made a note to never go into town at noon!

Months passed, and I actually forgot about my curse, and yes, I have come to consider it a curse. I decided to suck up to my parents by buying them something nice. Though I must admit that I rather liked living on the farm all by myself.

I walked up to the store, pulling my coat tight around my neck, when a man dressed as Santa started ringing a bell. He was hoping for a donation to charity for Christmas, but I insisted that he give me a donation to my curse! Oh my god! I really am a sinner! Who but a sinner could suck off Santa for Christmas?

Two hours later, my parents arrived to bail me out of jail. My therapists had sent them all the reports on me, so they now at least knew what was wrong with me. It didn't make them want me to come home, but at least they didn't treat me like I was doing this on purpose.

It's probably a good thing that I don't live at home. Who knew when I'd be in the car with my dad when a bell went off somewhere? I really didn't want to think about it!

So, as I said, I am cursed. I suppose as far as curses go, I could do so much worse! At least I like giving a guy head. It really does make me happy for a few minutes. You want to know what the real curse is?

The real curse is that I get so caught up in avoiding all the bells I can that I never have an opportunity to have sex! Here I am, living alone in a big house in the middle of nowhere, and I don't even have someone to warm my bed!

Oh well, maybe for my 19^th birthday -- coming up in just 4 months -- I'll sneak into another bar and meet another guy who will take me home. On second thought, I better not. With my luck, he'd probably hypnotize me to strip off my clothes and start fingering myself every time I heard a cat meow!

Hmm... I think I might need to buy a cat...