The Test


It was the test, the final exam for nearly one hundred supposed college level sophomores and juniors, each one dim-witted and washed out from too much studying. I offered several reviews for the test, but each one was meticulously scheduled to coincide with their other tests, so the turnout for each of the reviews was ridiculously low. Besides the reviews I also passed out a number of study guides during the last few classes, but, while the content of the study guide gave the student important information about the course they took, none of it covered what was on the test, the test that would be used to make up one hundred percent of the students' grades.

Fair? No it wasn't fair, nothing is fair and these students need to learn that fact, the sooner the better. Poor idealists, walking silently in to the slaughter, each one carrying a blue book, several pens and hopeful expressions. I watched as they walked into the lecture hall, each finding a seat, more or less in a handful of clusters.

After most had filed in I stood up and cried out, "Spread out, there is plenty of room. I want at least one seat in every direction between each student. Yes Hollins, that means you too."

I sat down while the students spread out, quietly leafing through the test, the test that would make or break most every student in the room. The test that I purposely made so convoluted and difficult that probably ninety percent of the students would fail. It was then, after they failed, that I could exert a bit of power on each of them. Give them a taste of the real world.

Funny, my eyes still hurt a bit from the strain of searching page after page of footnote, forward, afterward and appendix for test material. I don't even think I could pass the test and I wrote the text book for the class. Looking at my watch, I smiled, whispering to myself, "It won't be long now, my favorite part of this whole year."

I stood up, walked to the first row and handed out the stacks of the tests, letting the students figure out the best means of distribution. As the papers began shuffling around I spoke out loudly, "Turn the test face down until I tell you to start. Let me know when everyone has a test."

Sitting back down I prepared myself for the best moment of the term. "Does everyone have a test? Okay, you may begin," I said, watching up at the group trying to catch the expression on each and every student's face as they first looked at the test. Each year I would tell myself that I just had to set up a few video camera's so I could see even more, but each year I find myself too busy, either that or I simply forget. Either way, this year was as satisfying as any before, hell, several students actually moaned and for a moment I thought one woman was going to lose her lunch.

Of course in a little over two hours the stunned students then filed out one by one, each one asking about making an appointment to meet with me during my office hours. I made sure to jot down a few notes about each one, like say, "luscious lips," "a little heavy," "large breasts," "arrogant ass," "tight abs," and so on. I preferred the women, but if an occasionally guy looked proficient, I'd make a note of it.

Over the next few weeks I made sure to drop my bottle of Viagra into my briefcase and I spent time counseling, tutoring and doing what I could to help them work out a passing grade. If the student was unexceptional I usually had them write a detailed twenty page paper, a paper they had to finish before leaving campus for home. For the more exceptional students I offered a quicker, more exceptional way to pass.

For example, on the third appointment on the day after the test I saw I had scheduled the woman with the luscious lips. I made sure I took a Viagra some time before the appointment so when she walked in I was sufficiently ready to negotiate a solution to her dilemma.

"Ms. Halton, it appears you got a twenty two on the test," I said, gazing as her body responded to the stress.

"Yes, but I was hoping there was a curve."

"There is, but I'm afraid it doesn't curve that deep, especially after we had one student actually score a ninety two," (an overachieving, suck up, geek, I recalled). "So there is not much hope there," I said, standing up and moving from behind my desk. Just the prospect of feeling this woman's lips on my body had my cock hard and the way it poked out of my pants I am quite sure the student could see it.

She backed up a step and said, "I can't fail this course, but..."

"But what?"

"I don't know what you have in mind."

"It's a very simple task, especially for a woman of your generation. I must say I do enjoy your generation."

"Couldn't I just write a paper or something?"

"Well, this is the 'or something'," I said, leaning back and sitting on my desk.

"I don't..."

"Ms. Halton, you simply have to ask yourself if you want to pass or fail. You simply take a few moments of your time doing something I am sure you have done quite often..."

"What kind of a woman do you think I am?"

"It all depends, you are either a woman who passed my course or one who failed, there is no in between, no judgment here, you simply pass or fail."

"What grade do I get?" she asked, wincing some.

"Now that depends upon how good you are."

"So what exactly are you saying?"

"Well, if you were to tell me that you wanted to say, give me a blowjob as a thank you for the wonderful course I'd be happy to look a bit harder at the curve, perhaps sharpen my pencil. Of course if you are really good, then that curve might actually pull your grade up to a B."

"I tell you that I want to give you a blowjob in appreciation?"

"That's basically it, oh, just a moment though, let me rewind this," I said reaching into my pocket for my voice recorder.

"But I don't want to do that."

"Okay, well I'll just have to keep the curve as it is now. I thank you for your time and make sure you close..."

"Wait, you won't give me an opportunity to write a paper?"

"I could, but you know with a grade as low as yours I don't know if that would even pull your grade up enough."

"But the curve."

"Like I said, unless I find a glitch in the curve..."

"But you said you could work it out."

"Only if you..."

"What if I said I was going to talk to the dean?"

"I have a recording of our conversation, edited of course, but even if you do talk to the dean, you did fail the test."

"Okay, okay, tell me what you want."

"Simply tell me how you appreciated the course and that you'd like to do something special for me, I think that should work," I said, getting my recorder ready.

"I'd like to thank you for the course this semester and want to do something to show my appreciation."

"You are most welcome my dear," I replied, unzipping my zipper. I then eased my cock out of my pants and watched as she kneeled down. Closing my eyes I could just picture her full lips closing down over the head of my cock, almost feeling her tongue sliding underneath. And I could picture the look in her face when I came, spurting my cum into her mouth, seeing her carefully swallow every drop.

She had rested her hands on my thighs and I expected her to have a hold of my cock by now so I whispered to her, "You can start any time now."

"I don't think so," she said.

"But Ms. Halton, we've been through all that haven't we," I said, opening my eyes. I looked down and saw her still kneeling, her hands on my thighs and said, "Well go on girl..."

"Dr. Langham!" I heard from behind her, it was the Dean. I looked up and saw the Dean along with one campus policeman and two city policemen.

Quickly sliding down off the desk, I turned and slipped my cock back into my pants and zipped up. Turning back to the men I said, "Now everyone, this can be explained. It was completely consensual, she merely wanted to show her appreciation for the course. I have it her actually, on my voice recorder. Listen, you'll see."

"Don't worry about that Dr. Langham," the Dean said sternly, "we have our own recording."

I watched in amazement as Ms. Halton pulled a voice recorder from her purse which was sitting on the desk beside me. She had recorded every word.

"But this is a big misunderstanding, I can explain..."

"Save it for later," the Dean said as Ms. Halton slipped past him. "Now I think this police officer has something to explain to you."

One of the city policemen stepped forward and began, "You have the right to..."

I remained silent as they clamped the handcuffs on my wrists and let me out. The policeman's words now seemed to echo in the hallway as he continued informing me of my rights while we walked out of the building. Once in the police car I spotted Ms. Halton. She surprised me, I figured she might flip me off like most students in her position would have, instead she looked a me and shook her head in pity.

If only she knew...

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