Teacher’s Bully

Bullies still rule; fags still drool. A new teacher finds not much has changed since his time in school.

First day of class.

My name is Drew but this year I’ll be known as Mr. Henry. I’m a newly minted teacher and excited to get started. I spent days setting up my class for what I’m sure will be engaging and enthralling lessons on government. I picture the students scrambling for a front seat, ready to debate and learn.

Am I nervous? Well, maybe a little. I am a bit apprehensive about teaching the jocks. To be honest, I’m a bit intimidated by that type.

I’m 26, skinny, not much that would be considered muscle. I am average height but other than that I’m just a basic nerd type. But, hey, I managed to get a hot girl friend.

I still have flashbacks to being bullied in high school — stuffed in a locker by Ronnie, put in a trash can by Mike, given a wedgie by Jeremy … typical stuff.

But I’m the authority figure now, right? I’m a teacher and they’ll respect me. I know I was always a little scared of my teachers anyway. Besides, I’ll give the jocks a friendly smile, joke with them, and let them know we’re cool. I want them to like me after all.

Bell rings.
The door opens.
Students file in.
Here we go.

“Take your seats ladies and gentlemen. I’ll call role.”

I scan faces as they walk by. Nodding, smiling, saying variations of “good morning” to each student. I see some letterman jackets. Jesus, the jocks have gotten bigger than I remember.

Then I stop. He walked in. He all ready had that look in his eye. That “I’m going to smash you like a bug” look that bullies manage to wear. He wore a patriotic t-shirt that made me immediately peg him as right wing. The t-shirt strained over his muscled torso. His biceps looked like melons.

Crap I thought to myself Just what I need to start the day.

As I called roll I kept wondering when I would get to him.

… “James?”
“Present”
“Jessica?”
“Present”
“Jackson?”
“Fuck off, faggot.”

It was him. I gasped and fumbled for words.

“Wha … What???” My voice jumped.

He didn’t look the least bit sorry or even like he thought he was in trouble. He just leaned back in his desk, widened his man spread, and linked his hands behind his head. Veins bulged on his arms. Wordless.

The girl in front of him spoke up. “He likes to be called Jack, Mr. Henry.”

I stared for a long moment, trying to collect myself. Just be cool, Drew. You can talk to him later.

“Okay, then … Jack?”
No response.
He nudged his cap forward and closed his eyes.
Well, at least he won’t interrupt the rest of class.

When the bell rang 50 minutes later, I called on him.

“Jack, could you please stay a minute.”

He walked forward, cool as could be. No worry, no concern showed in his body language. He had a 7 inches on me. He sat casually on the edge of the desk next to me.

“What’s up,” he reached out for the teacher ID around my neck, “Drew.”

My face reddened.
“It’s Mr. Henry. Listen, Jack. I want to talk about the language you used earlier in class. You used a slur directed at me.
“You mean when I called you faggot?”
“Yes. Now, that could make other students feel unsafe and …”
He stretched his arm and put it around my neck, cutting me off
“Listen, Drew.”
“Mr. Henry,” I mumbled.
He smirked.
“Have you got a girlfriend?”
“Yes, but that’s …”
“Then you’re not a faggot, right?”
“Right … but … I mean … you can’t use …”
“So it shouldn’t hurt you any”
“Well …”
He tightened his arm on my neck
“But what will hurt is when I beat your ass if you don’t shut your mouth and leave me alone.”
“I …”
“Just give me my A this year and we’ll be cool.”
He released his grip.
“Good talk. You’re going to be a great teacher, Drew.”
And with that he stood and headed out the door
“Just remember what I told you, little dude. Later.”

That afternoon I learned that Jack had developed quite the reputation around school. The football coach tried to recruit him but he was too violent on the field. When he was cut from the team he said football players were, quote, “a bunch of sissy pussies.”

The next morning was uneventful. At this point I didn’t want to antagonize Jack further so I simply left him alone. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that.

After lunch, I headed back to my classroom for my free period. As I walked down the hall, someone knocked my books out of my hand. I was immediately spun around and a strong hand pushed me up against the locker with a bang. It was Jack.

“Hey Drew.”
“H … hi Jack”
“Why did ignore me in class today?”
“Wh … what?”
“You were talking about our lame ass faggot president and you didn’t give me a chance to offer a man’s perspective.”
His hand was on my chest, pinning me effortlessly against the locker
“Well, I …”
“That’s no way to teach, Drew. You’re supposed to allow a free exchange of ideas.”
He opened a locker
“I think you need some alone time to think about that.”
My eyes widened
“No … please. I’m sorry.”
He grabbed me one handed by the collar and shoved me in the locker and quickly slammed the door.

The bell rang. I waited. The bell rang again. The door opened. I fell out at his feet. He kicked me.

“Get to class, faggot.”

The next day, Jack was absent. I breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time since the first day of school, I was actually smiling. I energetically taught my classes and enjoyed in-class discussions. There were remarkably bright students at this school.

At 10:15 my phone dinged. It was a message from my girlfriend, Lauren. Why would she text me? She knew I was in class. I ignored the phone but 30 seconds later it chimed again.

I opened the phone and stared in unbelief at the message.

“Hey faggot.”

And below that a picture of Jack. And my girlfriend on her knees in front of him eagerly sucking his cock. I flushed at the sight. He was big. Very big.

I suddenly felt very foolish thinking I had somehow pleased Lauren with my 4 1/2 inches. I physically felt myself shrink at the thought.

Another text message.

“I’m about to fuck Lauren.”

And then a video. I hurried out of class to the bathroom. I sat in the stall and pressed play. As I watched the man pound my girlfriend and heard her yelps of pain and pleasure I instinctively knew that this was only the beginning.

Three videos.
She came all three times.
Video number 4 was Jack only.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
Lauren passed out from exhaustion.

“Hi Drew. I’ll be waiting right here. Get your ass home. Then we’ll see who can take a harder beating. You or Lauren’s pussy.”

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