I drive the short bus. Yep, that's me. I pick up about ten geeks a day at their homes and take them to the local special needs high school. For the most part, my mentally- and physically-challenged bus riders are pretty easy to handle. My bus comes with a special side door with a motorized wheelchair lift for the few kids unable to hoof it up the short steps, and seatbelts for the mentally inept little roundheads.
Now, I admit that I am a total scumbag, but I treat my geeks with respect. I help the ones who need help, I don't allow fighting or for the better-off ones to degrade or demean the pitiful ones. Most of my kids are sweet, hard-working students who just want to lead a normal life.
Physically, I am about six feet tall, skinny, with wispy dirty blonde hair and a wiry, spotty goatee and mustache. I have several dragon tats on my muscular forearms, and my left eyebrow is pierced. Overall, I have heard other people describe me as "that meth-addicted scary redneck convict dude."
I do not do drugs, nor have I ever been to prison, but people see a skinny redneck guy with tattoos and piercings and immediately think "crack addict." It's not a bad image to portray, however, as it keeps people from fucking with me. I do an excellent job for the school, and once the parents get to know me, they realize not to judge a book by its cover.
So, back to the scumbag part. Let's talk about Sarah – she's one of my little geeks. Sarah has a rather severe case of Muscular Dystrophy, a hereditary disease that is characterized by skeletal muscle weakness which keeps her in a wheelchair most of the time. Her physical therapist makes her get out of her chair several times a day and use her walker, so I know she is ambulatory, but for me she mostly just sits in her chair and reads her Bible and prays. All the fucking time. Non-stop. Pray, pray, pray. What I do know about MD is that most of the people afflicted with this disease are mentally fine, just a physical mess. This would generally describe Sarah. She appears sharp as a tack scholastically, but maybe a little immature for her 18 years.
Sarah's home life kinda sucks out the ass. Her parents are Bible-beating assholes who think they can pray Sarah through her problems. They live way out in the sticks at the end of a long gravel road, with a couple of rusted-out junk heaps littering the yard. Sarah has unfortunately inherited her parent's religious fervor, as she constantly recites from her ragged Bible during the ride to and from school—when she's not bitching about the heat, or little Billy, or something else. Her Mom home-schooled her through 8th grade, but finally gave up in high school.
Sarah would actually be very pretty were it not for the MD wasting her muscles away. She has raven-black hair which she keeps pulled back in a shoulder-length pony tail, usually decorated with a bright red ribbon. She tends to wear fairly trendy clothing, and on this day she wore a denim mini skirt with hot pink leggings underneath and a tight white t-shirt which showed off her small, perky little titties. Because of her medical
problem, she is very skinny (even more so than me), with a gaunt, angular, heart-shaped face and full pouty lips. Oh, and she also tends to drool a lot.
So, back to the scumbag part and the day in question. One day as we drove the last few miles to her house after dropping off the last little geek (Sarah was my final stop), I looked up in the rear view mirror and saw that she had accidentally dumped her book bag and several sheets of paper were spread out over the floor. She was straining to reach down with her one good hand (her other was cramped up in a semi-permanent claw), and scoop up the sheets, glancing up at me every few seconds. I pulled the bus over to the side of the deserted road and stepped towards the back of the bus.
"Oh Dear Lord, please help me... help me Lord," she moaned as I walked back. Her face turned bright red, and she straightened up as she realized she could not reach the papers without getting out of her chair.
"Mr. Murphy, don't you dare look at those sheets – I'll tell my parents if you do! Lord help me in my time of neeed," she slurred through a mouthful of drool.
I bent down to pick up several sheets and noticed that they were pencil drawings Sarah had done herself. Sarah was quite the little artist, and she had made drawings that would make a porn star blush. One was a close up of a hairy turgid cock spurting cum in copious amounts. Another was a side view of a man fucking a girl doggie-style. Her artistry was phenomenal, the detail astounding in its vulgarity.
Sarah was, understandably, red-faced and ashamed. She held her face in her good hand and moaned "Dear Lord" over and over again.
"Hmmm, what do we have here, Sarah. It appears you have been doing a little extracurricular work for art class. I see you even signed and dated them, how very thorough of you."
Sarah peeked up at me through her hands and said plaintively "please put them back in my bag, Mister Murphy, Okay?"
To this day, I do not know what came over me. Maybe it was her shiny black hair in that pony tail. Maybe it was her pouty lips. Perhaps I was turned on by the drool running down her chin. Whatever it was, as I looked down at her crying and moaning, my dick grew rock hard. I also realized that this girl had needs and fantasies just like any other 18 year old kid. Only she probably felt that she might never get to experience any of them.
I reached out and gently held her little heart-shaped face by the chin and tilted her head back and made her look me in the eyes.
"I bet your parents would absolutely shit bricks if I showed them a few of these pictures"
Sarah's eyes flew open and she moaned again "Noooooo, oh Dear Lord, please help me in my time of need. Cover me with your blood and wash my sins away. Dear Lord, Dear Lord, Dear Lord."
"I'll tell you what, Sarah, we can keep this our little secret, but you have to do something for me," I reached down and slowly began to unzip my khakis, not twelve inches from her wide-eyed face.
"Ohhhhh God, where are You now! Please give me some guidance," she slurred, as she stared at the front of my trousers.
I reached in and pulled my rock hard cock from my pants, and stroked it a couple times to get it to its proud seven inch length. My cock is respectably long, rather thin, topped with a nice, purple, plum-sized head. I like to think of my cock as the perfect length for "blowjob training". Not so big that they gag on it and can only take 1-2 inches, but long enough that they have to actually work to deep throat it.
"Now Sarah, as I see it, you either do as I say, or I show these pictures to your Momma, and she and your Daddy take you out of school and lock you up at home for the rest of your life."
"No, please Mister Murphy, don't show them. My Daddy'll beat me with a belt and Momma will make me kneel in the closet and pray for a week," she sobbed. "I promise, I'll do anything...anything. Deeeear Looooord, help me."
I reached out and took her good hand and wrapped it around the base of my cock and said lustily "You service me good, and do everything I say with no Goddamn backtalk, and we'll keep this secret, Sarah. And I want your 100% cooperation. When I say lick, you lick. When I say suck, you suck. You are gonna swallow all my cum, and beg for more, or your home life is gonna be a living Hell."
Sarah sobbed and mumbled a few "Dear Lord's" and then, if I didn't know any better she licked her lips in anticipation.
I pushed the head of my cock down to her mouth and grabbed her pony tail at its base with my free hand. "Lick the head, get it nice and dripping wet..."
Sarah slobbered over the head like a girl possessed, her tongue darting out and licking fervently, drool and spittle running down the sides of my cock and dripping off her tiny knuckles. Schlurp, schlurp, schlurp she went, her tongue circling my hot, fat, cock head, getting it nice and wet.
"Wow, we're off to a nice start," I gasped, "now suck it a little, try to take as much as you can into your mouth. Keep your tongue moving in there too. Ohhhh, that's goooood."
