This choice: Emily, a classic teacher's pet for Mrs. Damien • Go Back...Chapter #5Emily, a classic teacher's pet for Mrs. Damien by: Gerbil54378   She quickly pulled herself closer to the desk in order to better obscure you, hissing out a "Who's here, get out!", before losing all coldness and relaxing. "Oh good, Emily. I'm sorry to snap at you like that, it's just I'm so stressed with work today. I have a slew of new problems, and...well I'm just swamped alright? Please, forgive me. Come right in. What does my favorite student need?"
“Well...uh, nobody is going to come in today, Alica called off practice. She said it was something about personal issues coming up...but I uh, I know you’d still have extra work I could help you with, so I uh well I’m here to help. What should I start with?”
Mrs. Damien sighed, running her hands through her hair in distress “I’m going to kill that girl. Honestly, me and her are going to have issues.” Exasperated, she slid a stack of papers over. “I suppose you could start with this, just some simple grading while I overlook curriculum for next year”. Your teacher settled back down in her chair, stretching her legs back out and accidentally hitting you. She jumped up, suddenly remembering what was underneath her.
Emily, shocked, took a step back. “Mrs. Damien, are you okay?” She quickly closed the space between her and the desk.
“Yes, yes, Emily. You know what? I have a lot of work for you actually if you’re up to it, an entire weekend’s worth. I’ll write you another recommendation, and perhaps even think of expanding your college credit opportunities. You just have to solve a teensy pest problem that’s sprung up in the room.”
Her student jumped up eagerly, already agreeing wholeheartedly. She probably would’ve done it without the incentives. Smiling, Mrs. Damien kicked you back out from under her desk. Before Emily could barrage her with questions, she held up a hand. “I caught Alex here snooping around in my room, doing unspeakable things. I’ve been punishing him, but I think our little friend here doesn’t understand how punishment works, because they’ve been resisting all day. Now, I’ve had pinned under my feet for the last hour, but if you would, just break him in any way you feel comfortable. Now, again, I have quite the curriculum overhaul for next year. Would you be okay with me leaving you here with the little pest problem? I can trust you to whip this whole situation into shape?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Emily, almost too giddy for her own good and aiming to please, quickly brought her foot crashing up into your chin, sprawling you across the floor.
“Good, great even. Here’s the keys to the room, and please, keep him here. Stay the weekend if you feel the need. Just make sure it’s fixed by Monday.” With that, she tossed her keys, slid her shoes on, and left, but not before wiping a cold, clammy foot across your face. It was you and Emily now. She grinned, kicking you down one more time before locking down the room, ensuring she had full control over who left and who entered. She turned on her heel to face you, putting her short, blond hair up in a bun before addressing you.
“Now, how is this going to go? Are we going to be nice and take my shoe off or am I going to have to help you? Because, trust me, I’m more than willing to help. Mrs. Damien can attest to that.” Emily slid a foot forward across the carpet until it bumped your hand. Defeated, but still holding a scrap off your pride, you swept it aside and began to push yourself up. “Help it is!”
In a flash, her flat was off her sole and in her hand. Relentlessly she brought it down against your head, shoulders, and back in hard slaps. “Bad, bad, bad , bad! Is that at all how you treated your teacher? After all the work she puts into this class?! You can’t even listen to a single command?” She grabbed a tuft of your hair in one hand in order to get a steadier target. “See!” She rammed her shoe against your skull, “Was” Another hit “That” And a third “So” That was followed up by a fourth “Hard!?” She threw her makeshift weapon to the side, sending her fist instead crashing down on your head. With that final assault, you quickly succumbed again, falling to the floor.
She squatted next to you, sliding her shoe up against your nose, holding it there like a chloroform soaked rag. “See? All you had to do was take a sniff, but you just insisted on some tough love didn’t you? Hopefully we don’t have to do that again, that was quite the workout. And you know what a workout brings right? Sweat, just for you.” With that, she sealed your fate, standing back up and kicking you onto your side. Weakly, you protested, but Emily planted her skinny, pale, foot across your mouth before anything tangible came out. “Shhhhh just sniff. Baby steps.”
Reluctantly, you closed your eyes, obeying. Despite her promotion of sweat, her foot didn’t reek. In fact, it was quite similar to your previous captor. Cold, clammy, not sweaty, and not stinking. You sniffed, only to get a completely tolerable, fleshy smell. She stood there, soaking in her victory, and scrunching her toes along your cheek. She grinned, putting not enough pressure down to hurt you, but enough to tell you who’s boss. After moving your face about with your soles, she bounced off, tossing you her shoes.
“Sniff these, and do it well. I’m going to go do her paperwork and I want these clean when I’m done.”
Emily stepped back, watching you clutch one of her flats to your nostrils, snickered, and positioned herself behind Mrs. Damien’s desk. Securing her glasses at the tip of nose like a stuck up librarian, she got to work, humming some tune. You, however, lied there on your stomach, inhaling perfume-y fumes from deep within her shoe. Despite a sweat stain or two, it was just as tame as her own stench, and you lied there, building up courage for another attempt at resistance. She was a small, frail looking girl, who you personally watched struggle with her own instruments before. You just needed to get a jump on her. Without even looking up she ordered deeper breaths, and rolled back in her chair, spreading her legs out on the table and showing off her smooth, almost wrinkle-less feet in some morbid warning. You tucked in, obeying, taking deep whiffs from the interior cough.
Over an hour passed, and you took your chance. Moaning and faking a cough, you rolled over, clutching your sides. More curious and concerned over not being able to give something back to Mrs. Damien than anything else, Emily sprung up and came to your aid, prodding your shoulder and neck with a long, invasive, toe. First she commanded you to get up, before half crouching to ask what the matter was. You took that as your opportunity and sprung up yourself, throwing your mass into her sternum, firmly knocking her over.
Scrambling, you half crawled, half jumped toward the desk to where you last saw the keys to the doors. You threw her perfectly organized papers aside, as well as her bag, and a flurry of other various trinkets and assets. Nothing. You glanced behind you, and Emily was just barely getting on her knees, clutching her chest, and heavily breathing. You started to open drawers, filing cabinets, her bag, anything. After a minute or so, you stood up, only to hear some screaming battle cry, and you fell with a sharp pain in your knee. You went to push yourself up, but within an instant she brought herself down upon you, pulling your head up against the rough, airless, denim bottom of her jeans.
"If you're going to throw such a tantrum like a little baby, I have no choice to break your tantrums. Am I going to have to use you as a roll-y chair this whole weekend while I try and do paperwork? Or can I trust you to break on your own?" She shifted herself around "Or better yet, this might just be better than my old chair. I sure hope you don't suffocate under like I'm sure you deserve to." She wrapped her legs underneath your skull, dragging your head even deeper into her bony ass. You desperately grabbed at her in attempt to wretch her off, but she easily slapped and pinched your arms away.
"Now, we're going to sit here-or rather I'm going to sit here until I'm absolutely certain that you're shattered. Absolutely crushed underneath me because we do not want poor Emily getting hurt again do we? After all, if it happens again, I may just have to call Mrs. Damien down here and how mad would she be if she had to drive to school just to beat you up some more? I bet she wouldn't go easy. No sir. Now be a good boy and lay there."
You tossed around, losing air fast but Emily knew that all too well. She beat on your chest, howling with laughter as your legs kicked harder and harder against the floor and your arms flailed. She had you right where she wanted you, and you were hers for the weekend. "You know, pest? I think once I fix you up, Mrs. Damien will just maybe want to keep you after all. And I could come in whenever I wanted to help you with training. You're going to be so so so helpful in the coming years. Especially when we introduce you to the rest of the women in the school. How much service do you think you could accomplish in a day? And just to think, I want to take become a band teacher here and take over when Mrs. Damien retires. God, you just might spend the rest of your miserable life under the beautiful girls of this school. And you know what's even better? I'm going to train you to love every single minute of being a chair, a foot rest, a fetch boy, a rug, punching bag, and whatever else we desire because you belong to us now. Isn't that going to be amazing?"
And all you could do was squirm.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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