Many thanks to wanting2bdesired for first editing and improving this story.
Immense gratitude to BeautifulStorm, the hardest working editor on this site, who not only applies incredible expertise but also tremendous effort in following through to make sure the story turns out much better than I ever thought it could be.
*
"You're too young to be in the world's oldest profession."
Haley and her three friends laughed.
"We're not after your money, Schuyler," she said. "We just think you're hot."
He knew she was lying. If they weren't hookers, what were they doing at his table? He and the other men in the neighborhood bar saw them come in together, and all eyes had been on them ever since.
They looked like jailbait, but the bartender served them after checking their IDs, so Schuyler figured they must have been older than the fresh-faced giggly teenagers they acted like. Dressed in tight shorts and low-cut tops that showed plenty of cleavage, all of them were obviously enjoying being on display.
Schuyler began leering at them as soon as he saw them gather around a couple of bar stools. They were on and off the stools, mostly dancing to the jukebox, although it seemed more like jiggling their assets in time to the music.
One of them saw him staring at her, and he was surprised when she locked onto his gaze. He saw a trace of a smile come over her face as she looked at him. A moment later she was at his table.
She didn't even ask if she could sit down. Soon they were in conversation, of a sort. Schuyler was already too far gone to be intelligible. He mostly spoke of how hot she looked and how much he'd like to see more.
Haley told him her name and then deflected most of his crude remarks and laughed a lot. Gradually, her friends drifted over to the table. Most of the conversation was among them, although sometimes they included Schuyler. He enjoyed the attention.
Schuyler Slack knew he was nothing special to look at. In his mid-fifties, he usually hooked up with sluts who got as drunk as he did, and sometimes he was amazed at what was lying in the bed next to him in the morning. He usually got out of her apartment -- or got her out of his -- as fast as he could.
The regulars who saw him drink himself into oblivion at the bar every night would never have guessed what he did during the day.
The reason he became a high school social studies teacher was because he spent his college years in a haze of sex, booze and drugs, so he found the easiest courses he could take and ended up barely getting a degree in education. He was surprised that he got a job right away. There was a shortage of teachers when he graduated, so the district was hiring anyone.
Somehow, he lasted long enough to get tenure, and now the union protected him. Every school he taught at tried to get rid of him as fast as it could. Usually it took a couple of years and a parent who had some influence before he could be shuffled off to another unfortunate principal. He had had many conversations with principals and other school district officials trying to get him to resign. Sometimes parents even offered incentive money.
He didn't care what they wanted. The money was good, and the longer he stayed, the bigger the pension he'd get. His salary paid his bar bills, and since he didn't do more than go through the motions in class, the work wasn't hard. The students who had half a brain and were unfortunate enough to get him hated him because they wasted a whole semester in his class.
He liked his current position at Clark High better than most because his apartment was a few blocks from both the school and the bar. He could get to the bar early, stagger home alone or with his ugly slut of the night and rouse himself in time to get to his first class.
Tonight was a Friday night, so he didn't need to worry about leaving the bar until it closed. With the four gorgeous babes monopolizing him, he probably wouldn't hook up with anyone and would go home alone, but he didn't care. He was enjoying looking at their firm, young breasts and butts and imagining himself enjoying them. Even though he never offered to buy them a drink, they stayed at his table.
At closing time, when they said goodbye and left, he could barely pull himself up. Because of the distractions around him, he had drunk even more than usual. He staggered out into the night.
Halfway down the block, he said, "What the..."
He was suddenly being supported. He looked around, and it was the four babes, two on each side. They were not just supporting him, but they were directing him over to the curb, where there was a car with an open back door. They pushed his head down and then shoved him in the door and across the seat.
One of them got in after him, and another got in next to him on the other side. Before he could say anything, the car was pulling away from the curb.
He looked to his left and right at the girls, then to the two in the front seat.
"What the?" was all he could manage.
Haley answered him.
"It was too early for the party to end, Schuyler," she said, "so we're going to keep it going."
"Where?" he slurred.
"We're going over to Miss Stern's. I think you know her."
"No!" he yelled, and his face got dark. As drunk as he was, the name of Minerva Stern was enough to put him in a foul mood. She was a union steward at Clark High, and all she did was give him grief. She could get just as crude and nasty as he did when they had their frequent run-ins, so he tried to stay out of her way.
"Don't be a party pooper, Schuyler!" Haley said. "Miss Stern is a lot of fun once she's out of the classroom. She really lets her hair down. And she's pretty hot for being nearly forty. We're going to party with her. It will be wild!"
He continued saying "no" in a slurred voice and swayed back and forth as the speeding car turned corners. In a few minutes, it stopped on a quiet street in a middle class neighborhood.
As he was saying "no" for the umpteenth time, he felt a wad of material being pushed into his mouth and heard Haley say, "It's just my panties, Schuyler. We don't want you to wake up the neighbors."
He was pulled out of the car and directed to the front door, which was open. He didn't see Minerva until he was already through the door, but when he did, he tried to struggle as much as he could, which wasn't much. He was like soft putty.
The girls carried him to a large bathroom and lay him down on the tile. Then their hands were all over him. He tried to push them away, but his clothes came off quickly. He felt the cold tile on his naked skin.
Then he really got upset as a finger pushed some greasy stuff into his ass. That was followed by a rubber tube.
"What?" was all he could say again.
"It's only an enema," Haley said. "Enjoy it, Schuyler. We're going to give you two nice warm ones to clean you out. You won't have to go to the bathroom for the rest of the night."
When his second treatment was over and the spasms finally stopped as he sat on the toilet, he was so exhausted that he slumped to the floor and passed out. The four girls pulled him up, washed him off in the shower and dragged his naked body to the kitchen, where they sat him down and forced three cups of strong black coffee down him.
"We don't mind if you're drunk," Haley said, "but we want you to be wide awake, too, so you can enjoy the fun. We're going to play a party game with Miss Stern."
He tried to protest, but he still couldn't put more than a couple of words together.
"Hi, Schuyler," Minerva said. "What do you think of our secret senior pep squad? I chose them carefully. They were all lucky to not have any classes with you. They are good students, and some of the best athletes at school. They're all over eighteen, overdeveloped, oversexed and curious, just like I was when I was their age.
"The reason I started the squad was because Clark was getting the short end of the stick from the politicians and the district. They passed these laws that schools and teachers were going to be evaluated by annual tests. I've been trying to tell you about it, but you wouldn't listen. So let me explain it for the last time.
"All the schools get the same test, and if the students do well, the school is rewarded. But if the test scores are low, all sorts of bad stuff happens. Despite our great union, even teacher salaries and retirement are being threatened.
"Because we aren't in a wealthy part of town, we don't have much power at the school board, and we've been getting reject teachers from other schools. Whoever the rich parents don't like ends up at Clark.
"Some of them are actually terrific, and the only thing they did wrong was they wouldn't give in to the rich kids' parents, but some of them should never have been allowed in a classroom.
"As union steward, I have to support them all, no matter what I think of them. We can't let the bad ones get fired, because if we allow the administration to do that, they might start going after good teachers that they don't like -- like union stewards.
"Because of the new laws, we all have to teach to the test, and one or two rotten apples can spoil it for every teacher in the school.
"Some teachers, like you, don't give a damn about anyone else. They know that our contract is so strong that they can't be fired. So they don't teach to the test, and the students score low, which puts everybody in jeopardy.
"I've tried to talk to you about this, Schuyler. You're the worst teacher I've ever met. You don't teach to the test. In fact, you don't teach at all. You just pretend to. I've asked you politely to get with the program, and I've yelled at you, but you don't listen.
"I checked your records, and if you quit, you can start collecting eighty per cent of your pension right away. That's plenty of money to keep you in booze as long as your liver holds out. I explained this patiently to you a couple of times, and from your response, you know exactly what you're entitled to, but you choose to be selfish and greedy.
"Remember the last time we spoke? I told you that if you didn't have signed resignation forms on my desk within a week, I would be forced to take some drastic measures. You ignored me again, and that's why you're partying with our secret pep squad tonight.
