One was buff and tall, the other about average but skinny. They started to inspect us like property. One by one they went down the line, starting on m... left. They held her by the chin and looked at her face left and right, ran their hands over her pussy and breasts, examined her skin for imperfections, and other things. It was as though she was a used car and they were checking for value. They also asked her a couple questions, took some notes, then moved on.One after the next they examined us.. I knew all of them secretly hoped the same happened next year and they could use me again like they were about to now. Ms Reyes, my Math professor, set up a camera and promised she would punish me every time I failed by making me watch the tape, but not let me touch myself. “Such a nice body, no wonder you’re such a slut,” my Physics professor, Ms Peters, the oldest of all four, in her fifties, commented while running her hand up my leg then slapping my thigh hard, making it turn red. I moaned. “Oh fuck, Bobby,” she gasped. “You just have no idea how that feels.”“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked.“Yes...” her hips wiggled again. “No... “ they wiggled some more. “I don’t know,” she responded in typical female un-clarity. “Just don’t stop.”It suddenly struck me that I had been inside her for a couple of minutes now, and she wasn’t bleeding, or flopping around on the bed expiring noisily, and that, in spite of everything I had ever believed, it was actually possible that my prick might actually. She looked down at it and reached down for a taste. Then she bent down and gave the puddle a lick before sucking up as much as she could and swallowing it. She left for what I assumed was a shower before returning to clean up.That evening she asked how Butch was behaving. I replied that he seemed to be doing ok today. She said that it was about time. She said she finally found the right training technique. Without looking at her I told her she better keep at it to make it stick. I was hoping.
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