This choice: Ms. T's got a lot more gas for you. • Go Back... "Hm, let's try something else," Ms. T says as she finally lifts up off your face; your pant and choke as you greedily suck up fresh air. But she grabs you quickly, by the ear, and pulls you, holding your face close up against her nude butt, forced to smell the clinging reminants of her last gas attack.
She drags you to her desk chair and drops you right in front, then she puts a soft hand on your forehead, holding it down as she lowers her ass on your face. You yell for mercy, pleading but she ignores it.
"Now," she starts, her stomach gurgles loudly. "We're going to go over the questions on your quiz, one-by-one, and see where you went wrong."
She scoots back a little to free your mouth but your nose is upturned against her butt crack, smelling the fart and sweat she had on her.
"Number 1, 2 squared?"
You take a deep, torturious breath before answering, "4."
"Right, and that you actually got correct. Number 2, 4 squared."
"8."
Ms. T smiled just a bit, holding her stomach; she leaned forward just a bit. PRRRRRRRrrrrruuuuuuuuppppp! "That's wrong. You're confusing multiplication for squared numbers, it's like we talked about in class. Two 2's make 4 but when it..."
You could barely hear here as you uselessly thrashed under her, enduring the rancid smell at her backside.
"Do you understand now?"
"Yes!" I yelled out, suffering, hoping it would make this end.
"Okay then, so what's 16 squared?"
"48?"
BRRRRrrrrruuuuupppppp!
"Now you're just guessing!"
"Please, stop this! I can't take it!"
Ms. T gets up and looks down at you, "Excuse me, I think you were the one who said you'd do anything to pass."
"But this is torture, you can't possibly..."
"Well, given your demonstrated ability, I think it's either take the fail or sniff my farts."
"I...you can't..."
"Well, maybe there is another option; perhaps another, larger teacher may be able to help you learn."
Your eyes go wide with fright.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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