The Warped & Wicked Gym Coach Ch. 02

He peeked around the corner, and saw the room empty. At last, he thought and sighed. At his locker, he took off the suit and hung it from the hook, and put the towel back around himself. After class, he would go right back to the office and make sure he put in an order for another suit. He wasn't going through this again.

He put on his flip-flops, grabbed his soap kit, and walked to the showers. It was an open shower, white tile from floor to ceiling, with about ten nozzles evenly spaced apart. He put the flip-flops by the entrance, and hung the towel on the hook by the doorway. He lightly stepped on the slippery tile floor to one of the shower heads in the corner, and turned it on, testing the water with his hand occasionally until it got nice and warm, and he stepped beneath the flow.

It felt fantastic. He stayed like that for what felt like ten minutes, before squirting some body wash into his hand, and he began to lather himself with it, ridding him of the chlorine odor; he put the bottle down, and applied some shampoo to his hair, rubbing it in well, then the conditioner. He stuck his face into the water, rinsing the soap out of his eyes. With his hands he scratched his head, trying to work the conditioner into his scalp, when he heard another shower turn on.

"Hiya Jake," a female voice purred.

He fell into the wall, covering himself as best he could with his hands. He opened his eyes, as water still fell on his face; Ms. Bandy stood about five feet away from him, smiling eagerly, testing the water under the shower head with her hand. She still wore her black one-piece, with the straps pulled down under her armpits, exposing just a bit more of her cleavage.

"Don't mind me," she said as she put her hair under the nozzle, running water down her back and over her body.

"What the crap!" he yelled. "What are you doing here?"

"Two things," she grinned. "One: I'm taking a nice hot shower after a tough loss. Man, you were something out there today! I hate losing."

Was she seriously doing this?

"And two: let's just say I'm restoring the balance of order here," she said, as her smile waned. "After what you did to me." He looked at her as if she were insane. "The other day in study hall, you . . . disrespected me. Again, Jake, after everything we talked about."

"What?" he exclaimed. "I didn't!"

Her eyes narrowed, and her usual cheery demeanor momentarily went icy and fierce. "I saw how you were looking at me. From where you were." She blinked and looked down. "I feel like . . . like you saw something you shouldn't have seen."

Exactly one-third of her right areola and the base of her precious pink nipple. "Nothing! I swear!"

She looked horrified. "You swear?" He fell silent.

Her eyes narrowed more in total disgust. "I thought so," she answered coldly. He trembled as one gut-punched. She ran her hands through her slick hair, squeezed out excess water, and then bent down to his feet.

"Ms. Bandy!" He pushed himself further into the tiles. He would have pushed through the wall if he could have.

She picked up his body wash, put some in her hand, and began rubbing the liquid soap over her arms, her sleek legs, and her full chest, which heaved forward as she leaned over to do her legs again. "What? I need soap," she responded. She rubbed at her armpits, her chest and her neck, and she glistened like a pale mermaid.

"The whole rest of the day, I was a wreck. I didn't know how I was going to be able to return to class and see you, day in and day out." She rinsed off the soap, and slipped her arms back into the straps so that they once again went over the shoulders.

"Honestly, I think that was the worst day I've ever had as a teacher. I know how boys are -- I'm not naive -- but the way you were looking at me, as some fetish for you to ogle at, and knowing . . . what you saw . . . " She closed her eyes and put her hand on her breast, breathing deeply.

Now he felt like crying. "Oh, oh, I'm so sorry. I really am . . . Please . . ." He remembered his situation. "But I'm . . ."

She opened her eyes. "You don't know how hard it can be. I'm twenty-five years old, and a woman, and a gym teacher at that. I have to fight twice as hard as other teachers every day for respect. I get talked down to, belittled, overlooked, every cotton-pickin' day." She put down the soap, and picked up the shampoo, squeezing it into her palm, and she began to massage her dripping wet, now jet-black hair. His heart was racing, and he felt like a deer in headlights.

"It's bad enough when the other teachers and administrators don't take me seriously. But when it's a student -- and one I really like, like you!" She leaned her head back and rinsed the shampoo out, rising her hips and arching her back while doing so. ". . . And this sweet boy, well, he treats me like I was a porno actress . . . it just . . . it just drove me crazy. I can't allow it. I won't."

"I don't . . . think of you like that." He was getting another erection.

"And that's when I knew what had to happen," she said strangely, as she took a step closer. "I had to take my power back, do you understand? If you don't see me first and foremost as your teacher, as a leader in the community, as an authority figure you can trust to teach you the right way of action as you navigate through life . . . if you just see me as some piece of tail, then I've failed you. It's everything I've worked so hard for. I needed to win your respect back."

"But . . . I do . . ."

She put her hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly. "So I had this idea, that you needed to know how it feels. To be objectified," she said while slowly nodding. "That you needed to understand what it's like to be naked and powerless, to have unwanted eyes all over you."

She looked him up and down. He looked at her, shocked; her demeanor slowly softened, doe-eyed and pleasant again. "But please don't misunderstand me! Me being here now is my way of re-establishing our proper dynamic, okay? This is not a sexual thrill for me, at all. This is like a . . . like a psychological reprimand."

She giggled at the idea. "I'm sure you're feeling embarrassed being like this, and yes, that's kinda the point. But I'm not here to humiliate you just for the heck of it. I'm really not. I just . . . want you to know what a lack of respect feels like; to have someone treat your body like it was something solely for their viewing pleasure. And I knew that this would be a lesson you won't soon forget," She looked off past him, then walked slowly behind him. He was speechless.

"Hey, how 'bout I do your back?"

"Wha--?"

She pressed against him, as she leaned in, bent down, and grabbed the liquid soap at his feet again. "Nobody ever gets a clean back. Have you ever thought about that? It's impossible to wash our own backs," she mused as she squirted a dollop into her hand.

She didn't wait for a response. He ignited as he felt her soapy hands caressing the body wash into a froth on his trapezoid and delts. "You know, you've got great definition on your middle back. You can practically hang off of your lats!" He grit his teeth and blushed hard, and went fully stiff as she made gentle, slippery circles all over his back.

He started to breathe rapidly.

"Really impressive." She massaged his obliques, then knelt down as she began to rub his haunches, all the way down his hamstrings, working his tight muscles with her thumbs; her hands then floated up his legs, drifting over the outsides of his buttocks, cupping them for a moment as she continued upward to his lower back, kneading it erotically. He closed his eyes and gasped, practically open-mouth kissing the tiles. He felt the soap sliding down between his cheeks, over his scrotum. He didn't know how much longer he would last.

She placed both hands on his sides, onto his hips, as her fingers rubbed his lower abdomen to the hip flexors, inching in closer and closer to his swollen, aching cock, and then suddenly let go.

She put her arms around him, her front on his back, and whispered close to his ear: "So . . . how does it feel?"

"Not good," he said. He wasn't sure that was true.

"Not good," she repeated. She came in closer, whispering louder: "Don't you dare try to look up my skirt again, do you hear me? Don't you ever -- ever -- look down my shirt again. Don't you ever look at me like that again, got it? Got it?" She was squeezing him harder, grinding herself into him more and more with every word, the sweetness thoroughly drained from her voice. He nodded rapidly. "Because if you do, this will look like child's play to what I'll do next." She grabbed his butt with her full hand and squeezed it hard. He let out a yelp.

She let go. "I'm glad we had this talk. I think we're gonna be okay from now on, don't you?" she smiled. "Rinse up," she said, as she sauntered off into the darkness of the locker room.

Jacob stayed that way for a very long time. When he was sure she had left, he masturbated furiously -- for the first time in his life -- for thirty-one whole seconds before blowing a heroic load all over the shower room. He inhaled for the first time ever, and exhaled away all the pain in the world.