by Wylde Flowers

Copyright© 2014 by Wylde Flowers

: A college athlete bizarrely will go from being good to being awful. Two journalism students investigate and discover something strange about a teacher.

Caution: This contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Water Sports   .

Ms. Craven sat up on the side of the bed. She blinked her tired eyes. It was harder to get up this morning. Not a good sign.

She stood and her right knee ached. Definitely not a good sign.

She trudged to the bathroom. She felt much more tired than she did yesterday morning.

She looked in the mirror at her straight shiny black hair, bangs cut in the front. A white hair! Horrors. She yanked it out.

She needed healing soon.

"Pop quiz!" she announced to her 8 am Psych. 101 class. It produced the expected student groans.

She pulled out her compact. Horrors! A wrinkle! This will not do at all.

Ms. Craven looked 25 years old and because of her youthful looks no one realized that she taught at State for the last 30 years. Department deans come and go and she did her best to avoid meetings where staff that had worked there a long time might realize she never aged. Most people assumed she was a fairly new teacher and that's how Ms. Craven wanted it. She liked looking only a few years older than her students.

She looked at each student, each male student. She locked onto Jake Lambert. Yes, he would be perfect. A pity he's on the football team. Linebacker? The team is doing so well this year. But some things are much more important. He's barely getting by in class. Technically a D is getting by but it could just as easily fall to a F. Bye-bye playing football.

Ms. Craven wrote a note then walked the desk aisles dropping the note on Jake's desk as she passed by.

Jake opened the note. He read it then stared at her. When she looked up and smiled at him, he looked back down at the note. "Talk to me after class on how to get an A in this class. Automatic A on all your assignments." What blew his mind was the rudimentary picture written in lipstick. It was a dick and balls. She is a hot teacher. Does she want to do it with me?

She was pleased to see Jake remain at his desk when the room cleared out after class.

He approached the teacher's desk when they were alone. "Ms. Craven? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I would love to sit on your face," she answered.

His mouth dropped but he recovered quickly. "And then I get to fuck you?'

"Crudely put but yes if you're up to it still."

"I'll be up to it." He'd show this hot teacher what a good fucking was all about.

"You need to come to my place tonight or no deal."

"I'll be there." He had to break a date with Sierra but that was okay.

"Come on in, Jake."

Ms. Craven answered the door dressed in a short black negligee. It basically fully exposed her boobs. He wondered if she had panties on or instead her pussy was already available for the hard erection in his pants.

She said, "I imagine your eager to do it. So am I. Follow me."

This was so fucking cool!

It wasn't a bedroom she led him to. It was a room with a solitary bed. No, it was more a long cushioned table with straps.

"Get on," she said.

"Should I get undressed first?"

She shrugged. "Not to see my pussy."

He got on.

"These straps are to hold you in place because guys get excited about my pussy. It's not a bondage thing. I'll release you as soon as we're done."

"So we're not going to fuck here?"


"Good because I want to fuck you from behind like a bitch."

She strapped in place his legs and arms but then she put this contraption around his head that sort of was like head gear for fighting.

"I want my pussy right over your face the whole time."

He didn't like having his head constrained to one position but she shed her negligee then climbed onto the table. She moved above his face.

"You have a beautiful pussy."

"Why thank you, Jake. That is very nice of you."

She didn't go directly over his face. That wouldn't do at all. She sat more over his neck but he could see her pussy as he commented earlier. She used her fingers to open up her pussy.

"That's where my big cock is going," Jake bragged.

She let out a stream of urine. It was perfectly placed on his face which for a woman urinating is nearly impossible but for Ms. Craven, normal.

In shock, Jake closed his eyes to protect from the stream. He cried out. The urine burned on his face and skin. He tried to move his head but he was expertly constrained.

Ms. Craven breathed in deeply. She could feel the energy of revitalization flow into her body. Her knee that felt pain getting on the table now felt great. White or gray hair returned to shiny black. Wrinkles dissolved into a perfect facial complexion. She felt reinvigorated.

She finished urinating on his face. He breathed deeply. She left him so she could get dressed. The process always made the donor sleepy. She removed his confinements and let him sleep it off.

He staggered into the living room.

"There you are," she said. "You sure know how to treat my pussy right."

"Oh ... um ... you're welcome. " He remembered seeing her pussy but nothing after that.

"You have just earned an A in my class."

"That's a ... that's good." He felt so confused. "I should be going now."


Ms. Craven whistled a catchy tune as she made dinner for herself. She was always hungry after a transference.

Saturday afternoon the football team played.

"What is wrong with you, Jake?" the coach howled. "The receivers are running past you and the runners are going through you."

"I don't know. I have no strength and energy."

"Too much partying?"

"No coach. Honest. I don't understand what's wrong."

"I'm taking you out."


"Shipley! You're in for Lambert."

At the next practices Jake was no longer what he was before. Players he was stronger than could push him around now. He not only lost his starting job but never got in games. He quit the team.

"How did your interview with Jake Lambert go?" David asked his friend and coworker at the school's student newspaper.

"It's so sad," said Emma. "One day he's a starting player, the next day he's doesn't have the energy to be a towel boy. His doctor checked him and says there's nothing wrong with him. His arms and legs are like someone who watches TV or reads erotica day and night."

"That is sad. It sounds like Michael Walton last year."

"It's happened before?" Emma was a freshman. David was a junior.

"Michael played wide receiver and suddenly he can't run fast so he can't get open."

"I felt I was stronger than Jake Lambert," she said. "His body is fit yet he's so weak."

"Just like Michael."

"Doesn't that sound strange?"


"That two players both lose their abilities overnight."

"I don't know about that. Weird stuff happens in life."

"Do you know if there are others it has happened to?"

"Not that I know of. I guess there could be."

"Do you think it would be okay if I look into this more?"

"I'm sure it would okay with Susan as long as you get your regular stories in."

A month later.

"Remember what happened to Jake Lambert?" Emma asked. She held a sheet of paper.

"The football guy who lost his strength?" replied David.

"Right. I've found other players that it's happened to. Just last spring Matt Logan was a pitcher on the baseball team and he was pretty good but then something happened to him. I talked to him and he can barely throw a ball ten times without getting tired and he can't throw fast anymore."

"That's weird."

"Two years ago, Larry Berry, went from a starting player on the basketball team to getting removed from the team. He still can't run more than more than a few yards without getting out of breath."


"The school paper has rarely reported about players who were good and no longer are. We've just reported how our teams did and who were the best players for that game. We always list the statistics."

"Box scores," David said.

"I've looked back about ten years and there is always at least one player during the fall sports and one player during the spring sports, always male, who went from being a pretty good player to barely playing at all."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Joe Jones, football. Sam Ackerman, track."

David snatched the paper away and glanced at it.

"This is creepy," he said.

"What could cause this?"

"What do they have in common?"

"Right. Besides being athletes and fit specimens of maleness."

"I guess we have more research to do."

"We?" Emma questioned.

"I'm in this with you."

"Thank you."

"So what have we found this last month?" David asked.

"Nothing," Emma sighed.

"Yea." He let out his own sigh. He knew the answer before he asked.

"They all took Craven for Psych. 101 but that's the only thing I can find that they have in common."

"I had her last year. A lot of students take psych to meet elective requirements."

"Right. I was looking through old yearbooks and she's taught here for 30 years."


"I was looking... ," Emma began again.

"No, did you say she's taught here 30 years?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Craven doesn't look like she's 30 years old. For her to work here 30 years she'd have to be over 50 and I don't care how good your make up is, it won't make you look 25."

"Oh my gosh! What do we do?"

"Confront her."

"Shouldn't we go to the police?"

"And what are you going to tell them?"

Emma thought a second then said, "Good point."

Ms. Craven sat at her teacher's desk looking into her compact. The students were busy with a test on chapter 5.

What's this? A little wrinkle on her forehead? The Jake boy didn't provide as long a rejuvenation as she hoped. She needed a touch up already. Fortunately it could be any guy. She didn't need an athlete.

She stared into the mirror and touched her face. Definitely a wrinkle.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would give a low test grade and that boy would rejuvenate her.

When the bell rang students filed out except one student remained.

"Ms. Craven?"

'Yes? You look familiar."

"My name is David. I took your Psych 101 class last year."

"Oh, yes. Can I help you David?"

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