It was the test, the final exam for nearly one hundred supposed college level sophomores and juniors, each one dim-witted and washed out from too much studying. I offered several reviews for the test, but each one was meticulously scheduled to coincide with their other tests, so the turnout for each of the reviews was ridiculously low. Besides the reviews I also passed out a number of study guides during the last few classes, but, while the content of the study guide gave the student important information about the course they took, none of it covered what was on the test, the test that would be used to make up one hundred percent of the students' grades.
Fair? No it wasn't fair, nothing is fair and these students need to learn that fact, the sooner the better. Poor idealists, walking silently in to the slaughter, each one carrying a blue book, several pens and hopeful expressions. I watched as they walked into the lecture hall, each finding a seat, more or less in a handful of clusters.
After most had filed in I stood up and cried out, "Spread out, there is plenty of room. I want at least one seat in every direction between each student. Yes Hollins, that means you too."
I sat down while the students spread out, quietly leafing through the test, the test that would make or break most every student in the room. The test that I purposely made so convoluted and difficult that probably ninety percent of the students would fail. It was then, after they failed, that I could exert a bit of power on each of them. Give them a taste of the real world.
Funny, my eyes still hurt a bit from the strain of searching page after page of footnote, forward, afterward and appendix for test material. I don't even think I could pass the test and I wrote the text book for the class. Looking at my watch, I smiled, whispering to myself, "It won't be long now, my favorite part of this whole year."
I stood up, walked to the first row and handed out the stacks of the tests, letting the students figure out the best means of distribution. As the papers began shuffling around I spoke out loudly, "Turn the test face down until I tell you to start. Let me know when everyone has a test."
Sitting back down I prepared myself for the best moment of the term. "Does everyone have a test? Okay, you may begin," I said, watching up at the group trying to catch the expression on each and every student's face as they first looked at the test. Each year I would tell myself that I just had to set up a few video camera's so I could see even more, but each year I find myself too busy, either that or I simply forget. Either way, this year was as satisfying as any before, hell, several students actually moaned and for a moment I thought one woman was going to lose her lunch.
Of course in a little over two hours the stunned students then filed out one by one, each one asking about making an appointment to meet with me during my office hours. I made sure to jot down a few notes about each one, like say, "luscious lips," "a little heavy," "large breasts," "arrogant ass," "tight abs," and so on. I preferred the women, but if an occasionally guy looked proficient, I'd make a note of it.
Over the next few weeks I made sure to drop my bottle of Viagra into my briefcase and I spent time counseling, tutoring and doing what I could to help them work out a passing grade. If the student was unexceptional I usually had them write a detailed twenty page paper, a paper they had to finish before leaving campus for home. For the more exceptional students I offered a quicker, more exceptional way to pass.
For example, on the third appointment on the day after the test I saw I had scheduled the woman with the luscious lips. I made sure I took a Viagra some time before the appointment so when she walked in I was sufficiently ready to negotiate a solution to her dilemma.
"Ms. Halton, it appears you got a twenty two on the test," I said, gazing as her body responded to the stress.
"Yes, but I was hoping there was a curve."
"There is, but I'm afraid it doesn't curve that deep, especially after we had one student actually score a ninety two," (an overachieving, suck up, geek, I recalled). "So there is not much hope there," I said, standing up and moving from behind my desk. Just the prospect of feeling this woman's lips on my body had my cock hard and the way it poked out of my pants I am quite sure the student could see it.
She backed up a step and said, "I can't fail this course, but..."
"But what?"
"I don't know what you have in mind."
"It's a very simple task, especially for a woman of your generation. I must say I do enjoy your generation."
"Couldn't I just write a paper or something?"
