Mid-Term Exam


B.J. Michaels


"Test??? What test???? What the heck are you talking about?" I asked my best friend Tim.

"What do you mean 'what test??'" he said. "Tomorrow's trig mid-term."

"What!!! You've got to be kidding. I completely forgot about it."

Here we were at a local restaurant on Sunday night, celebrating our swim team's victory over the weekend in the state sectional tournament. I had completely forgot about the trig mid-term tomorrow.

I was so psyched getting ready for the meet that I even forgot to bring my textbook home.

"You mean you forgot all about it???" asked Tim.

"Hell yes", I said.

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." It was too late to study, even if I had brought my book home. And the test was Monday morning, first period. "Damn, I don't know what I should do."

I was panicked. I could not believe I had forgotten all about the test. I had just made it into the National Honor Society last quarter. I had worked so hard and it was something I had to have if I was going to get a swimming scholarship. If I failed this mid term, it would wipe me out.

I could hardly sleep that night. I tossed and turned all night. What should I do?

I finally decided that I would ask the teacher, Mr. D, if I could skip the test and take it later.

I'd explain the situation to him, and hoped he would understand. That was reasonable wasn't it? After all, he was sponsor for the NHS, and he was even at the swim meet.

That's what I would do, just explain the situation to him and I'm sure he would cut me some slack.

Monday morning came. I got in early to see Mr. D. But he wasn't in. The sign on the classroom door said to report to testing center room #2 for the mid-term trig test. Shit. Now what?

I ran past Tim in the hallway, fanatically looking for Mr. D. But he was no where to be found. I went to the teachers lounge, no luck.

Tim said, "Hey man, don't sweat it. I got you covered. I've got some 'notes' for you for the test."

"What do you mean 'notes'?"

What he had were some cheat sheets with all the trig formulas on them. He said, "Just be cool, this will get you through. I use them all the time. Besides, the test is in the testing center. That old lady never catches me."

I knew that Tim always cheated, but I never did. But damn, he always got better grades than I did. It wasn't fair. Maybe he was right. My back was against the wall here. Maybe I'd just do it this once.

Tim and I went to the testing center, but instead of the old lady, there were two new test center monitors. I didn't know what to do but I took the notes from Tim anyway. Maybe I wouldn't have to use them.

I sat down at a desk and waited for the tests to be handed out. I looked at some of the problems and just choked. I didn't see any problems that looked easy. I was completely unprepared for this test. Mr. D said it would be tough since most of the class had not been keeping up with their homework lately.

I tried to get through the few questions I could and then went for the cheat sheet. I slid it out of my pocket and put it between my legs. Tim had done a good job, but he had written really small to get all the formulas on the sheet. I must have been staring down at my crotch too long and didn't realize that one of the test monitors was right behind me. She reached down and grabbed the cheat sheet right out from between my legs. I couldn't believe it!!! I about passed out. I sat there in a cold sweat. She looked at the cheat sheet and then grabbed my test. She said, 'let's go', and we marched out of the test center to the office. I didn't know what I was going to do.

I waited outside of the office for what seemed like forever. Finally Mr. D came out and I followed him back to his office. He closed the door and we both sat down. He had my test and the cheat sheet in front of him and he just sat there staring at me not saying a word. The tension was awful. I was sweating and shaking. Wasn't he going to say anything????

Finally I just blurted out, "I'm am sooo sorry, Mr. D. I have never done anything like this before, and I swear I'll never do it again. It was just that I was so involved with this swim meet. I know that is not excuse. But you were there. We won the sectionals. And I forgot my text... I tried to see you before the exam to explain, I hoped maybe I could take the exam later."

I was now just babbling on and on. I was on the verge of tears when he finally held his hand up for me to be quiet. I shrunk back into my seat.

"Save your excuses," he said. "I have the evidence before me. You tried cheating on this test, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir, but please let me explain..."

He held his had up again. Got up a walked around his desk behind me.

"This is very serious. Do you realize the implications???

Your failing this midterm puts you at risk for passing trig.

Which means your GPA will drop.

Which means the Nation Honor Society will drop you.

Which means you wont get that swimming scholarship you are trying so hard to get."

I was crushed. I hadn't thought about all of that. Much less my scholarship. What was I going to do?


"I'll...I...I...I...I...I... don't know, sir. But I'll do ANYTHING you want, really, just give me one more chance. PPPPLLLLEEEAAAASSSEEEEE!" I was really begging and again nearly crying.

"You know I have a policy against never giving a make-up exam."

"Please sir, can't you make an exception just this one time? I'll make it up anytime, anywhere, please."

He turned from the window and was actually smiling. He put his hands on my shoulders and began to rub them. "Yes, I can see how important this is to you, and I will give you one more chance. But this is between you and me. One more chance is all you get. And we do it by my rules. No questions asked. Agreed?"

I couldn't believe my ears!!! "YES, YES SIR!" I said. "Whatever you want. Thank you. Thank you."

"All right, now, listen carefully: I'll give you tonight and tomorrow's free periods to study.

I'll write you an excuse from swimming practice. I don't have any unscheduled time tomorrow at all. You'll have to come by my house to take the exam. Be there at 4pm, sharp. Here is the address. Don't be late."

"No sir, I mean yes, sir. Thank you soooo much. I'll be there."

I spent all night studying and the next day's free periods, too. I was ready for this exam.

I told my swim coach that I'd miss practice for the make up exam. He was not happy, with the state finals coming up, but he let me go anyway.

I got to Mr. D's house right at 4pm. I knocked on the door. He opened the door and let me in.

"Right on time. Very good," he said.

"Yes sir."

He closed and locked the door. He had a card table and chair set up in the middle of the room. "Sit here and I'll get your exam. I hope that you're ready for this exam."

"Yes sir, I am." At least I thought I was.

Mr. D. brought the exam to the table. It was huge, at least 1/2 inch thick.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Why, it's your makeup exam." he said, with a smile.

"But this is much more than the original." I stared at the first few problems and couldn't even understand them. "And a lot harder."

"Well, you didn't think I was going to give you the same exam that you cheated on, did you?"

"Well no, but I was prepared for something comparable."

"Sorry, remember, my rules: no questions," he said.

I shut up and looked back at the test.

After 10 minutes, I still hadn't completed one question. He was sitting in a chair in the living room, when I came in and handed him the exam.

"Done already?"

"No," I said. "I studied my butt off, but I can't answer any of these questions."

"Too bad," he said. "There goes your scholarship."

"The make-up test wasn't fair."

"No, you trying to cheat on the first test wasn't fair."

"Isn't there anything I can do to change your mind? I told you I'd do anything."

"Well, since you aren't ready for this mental challenge, would you consider another type of challenge?

"What is it?"

"It is a physical challenge. Now, you are the best long distance swimmer on the school's swim team, right?"

"Yes sir."

"And you really pride yourself on endurance, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, here is the deal. You can try and finish this test and fail miserably. Or, you can see how long you can go without laughing while being tickled."

"Huh?" I said. "You are going to tickle me? What kind of challenge is that?"

"Listen carefully: the original test had 50 questions on it, each worth two points, for a total of 100. If you can go 50 minutes without laughing while being tickled, you will get an A+ on the test. But for each minute you laugh, you lose two points. That should be easy for you, swimming all those laps day after day, holding your breath for long periods of time.

You decide: the written test or the tickle challenge? But remember: my rules, and no questions asked."

It all seemed a little weird, but I knew I had no chance on the exam.

"I'll take the tickle challenge." I said. "Your rules, no questions asked."

"Good." he said. "Come with me."

We walked down into the basement. It was dimly lit until he turned on a large florescent shop light. It hung low from the ceiling, about 4 feet over what appeared to be a padded bench. Actually, it was the bottom seat of an old couch that had the back taken off. It had thick wooden legs and slotted wooded arms. It was covered in black vinyl.

"Take off your shoes and socks and lie down."

I looked at him puzzled,

"My rules, no questions," he said.

I took off my shoes and socks and lied down. I was wearing button fly jeans and a t-shirt.

"Put you feet through these slots."

I had to point my toes, twist my feet slightly, and slide down the couch to get them through.

They barely fit, but now my bare feet were sticking through the end of the arm of this couch.

He brought out a digital clock and plugged it in. It flashed 12:00. "Here is the deal again: I'm going to tickle you for 50 minutes. For each minute you don't laugh, you get two points. The longer you hold it in, the higher your score on the exam. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." This is going to be easy, I thought to myself. I'm really not ticklish on my feet. I rarely wear shoes, and with all the swimming I do, my feet are very callused.

He sat down on a small stool that had wheels and rolled around to my feet. He pulled out a slotted board and slid it over my ankles on the outside of the arm of the bench, locking my ankles firmly in place.

"Put your arms straight above your head," he said. My fingertips barely reached the other arm of the couch. "Pull yourself up as far as you can." I reached and pulled myself up several inches, enough to get my wrists through the arm of the couch, but now was really stretched out. My T-shirt had pulled up, exposing my stomach. He grabbed some rope and tied my wrists together.

"There," he said. "How is that?" I wasn't hurting, but I could really feel the stretch in my arms, shoulder and sides. I was really not able to move much at all. I was also starting to get hard.

"It's kind of uncomfortable, but OK."

"I'm starting the clock now," he said. He wheeled his stool to my feet. He took my feet and began massaging the bottoms with his thumbs. I closed my eyes and began to take slow, deep breaths and started to mentally count the seconds.

He began poking and rubbing his fingers all around, up and down and between my toes. I had some sensitive spots that would make my feet twitch, but nothing that was bringing me close to laughter.

I had gotten to about five minutes and still had not laughed. He was still poking and tickling all over my feet. This was going to be easy; it actually felt kind of good. And the sense of being tied helpless actually was making me horny. I really had a bulge in my pants now. I was wearing an old pair of speedos under my jeans, and I was getting quite uncomfortable with no place for my cock to go.

Mr. D was really getting frustrated, not being able to get me to laugh. He stopped and left the room. When he came back, he had what looked like a toothpaste tube and a big glass of ice water. He sat down at my feet and squirted some gel from the tube all over my feet. He worked it all over, especially between my toes.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Something to soften and warm your feet up." Whatever was in the tube was starting to make my feet feel warm and tingle. As he massaged my feet with this gel, I was really getting hard. "I can see you are enjoying this," he said. He wheeled around to my side with his glass of ice water and admired my bulging crotch. He reached over me to set his glass down, and a few drops of the ice water dropped on to my exposed stomach, making me jump. He saw my reaction and smiled. "Well, maybe we have found a more sensitive spot."

He reached down and rubbed the water drops around my stomach and into my navel. I sucked in my stomach to avoid his touch, but could not. I squirmed and bit my lower lip and tired to hold it in, but then he dug in with both hands into my sides and I lost it.

"HAAAAAAAAA." He worked his fingers into my sides and all along my stomach. I let out a huge gasp and tried to catch myself but, "OHHHHHHHH, HAAAAAAAAAAAA."

"Now, this is more like it!" he said with a smile. He continued to tickle all over my sides and stomach.

"Stop, please!" I begged.

All the while he was working his fingers on my exposed stomach, his forearms and elbows were rubbing all over my crotch. He stopped and said, "I guess I was wasting my time with your feet, and so sorry, but you have just lost 10 points with that last outburst."

Oh shit, I had just forgotten about the test. God I've got to get control of myself. He had a gleam in his eye and said, "Let's see where else you are ticklish." He grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and pulled it up over my head, exposing my chest and my armpits. He ran his hands firmly up and down my chest and stomach and I gasped. I could not see what he was going to do with the T-shirt over my head. I was waiting for that first tickle. Instead, he began rubbing my nipples, rolling them between his fingers and pinching them. I thought I would cum right then. This was really tuning me on! I then felt the touch of an ice cube and I shrieked, he ran the ice cube over my nipples, chest and stomach, and it sent shudders all through my body. He then stopped and I felt his fingers on my arms above my armpits.

He began lightly moving them down to my pits, he then stopped and I tensed up again, waiting to be tickled. "What happened to your armpit hair?" he asked. We had shaved our bodies for the big swim meet this past weekend. Now the little bit of hair that I did have was coming back as short little ultra-sensitive stubble. He began to touch this super-sensitive area and I laughed and bucked and pulled wildly at my bindings. I laughed shrieked and screamed as he went after both of my pits at the same time.

"Stop, please, stop!" I pleaded. "Anything but this, please!" I was now really sweating.

"That's another 10 points off," he said. My stomach was heaving up and down while I tried to catch my breath. "Well, what shall we do now?" He put one finger in my navel and he put his other hand on my crotch, and said "This or this?"

"Please, anything, but no more tickling!" I said. He reached down and slowly undid the button fly of my jeans. He then grabbed both sides of my jeans and pulled them down my knees. It felt so good not to be packed into those jeans.

"So, shall we get back to our tickling?" he asked.

"No!" I pleaded. He lifted up the waistband of my speedos and I arched my hips around so my cock could finally lay up straight. He let the top of my speedos go so that just the tip of my cock was sticking out. Without warning, be began to tickle me all over: stomach, ribs sides and armpits, and letting his forearms and elbows rub up and down my shaft.

"Sorry, 5 more points," he said. "Any more and you may not pass this test, either."

I was now oozing precum. He rubbed his finger in it and began rubbing it over my cockhead. "Well," he said, "you have 5 minutes left. If you can stop from cumming, I'll give you an 'A'. Otherwise, we can see how long you can hold out from tickling."

I said, "Please, no more tickling!" He pulled down my speedos and began stroking me with one hand and massaging my balls with the other. I could feel the cum surging inside me, and tensed up to make it stop. But he kept stoking faster and faster, and firmer and firmer.

I was really straining to hold it in, but soon I began pumping up and down as much as my bonds would let me, and screamed and I shot out a huge load of cum up over my head, onto my neck and chest, and a trail on to my stomach.

"Wow," he said, "that was quite a load. And oh my," he said, "too bad, you had only 30 seconds left. He began to rub my cum over my chest and stomach and said, "Maybe we should try the tickling again?"

I shuddered and pleaded, "No, no! Please, no more!"

"Just kidding," he said. He pulled the shirt back down from my head and smiled. "I think you have had enough for now."

I was exhausted and too tied to argue. He untied my arms and legs and I slowly got dressed. I had never had such an intense orgasm before. I was sore all over, but felt really good.

Mr. D. was waiting upstairs for me, with a copy of the test. "I think you deserve a 'B'," he said.

"Really? Thanks!"

As I walked out he door, he shouted, "Just remember that your final will be even tougher!"

B.J. Michaels