Warning: Mention of futa - G!P. Some D/s.

Good Girl

Being a teacher is not a bad job. On a scale from one to ten, for me at least, it is a seven. Not the best pay in the world, but the extra free time and amount of paid vacations other average workers like me don't have is worth the slightly lower income.

"Kagurazaka, stop leering at Takahata. I can see your drool all the way from here," And then, there is the pleasure my sadistic side relishes in whenever I get to embarrass a student like this. But the redhead is not even worth my time. She is too easy to rile up and most of her time is spent either at the principal's office getting a halfhearted scold or outside the hallway until the bell rings -because, how could I get tired of her suffering? I'd let her stand there all day if it wasn't against school regularions to punish students for more than a period.

Kagurazaka snaps her mouth shut and blushes. I could see a vein popping there, "I am not-"

"Detention."

"Bu-!"

"Detention!"

See? Too easy. Child's play. Asuna leaves my classroom in a fit of poorly-concealed rage, muttering profanities under her breath as if I couldn't hear her. I have to admit it though, the girl amuses me to no end. It's not like I would give her a grade too low, or any of her classmates for that matter. There is just no way I will see any of these idiots in my classroom again, so I have to draw a few numbers once in a while. Not like they checked my schedule in this pish-posh institution. The children pay, they pass. Simple. Of course, there were a few special cases who were here because of a favor, a scholarship, or just plain damn luck.

Take Kagurazaka and Tatsumiya. Both of them under the principal's wing. One because of her friendship with his granddaughter, the other because her deceased parents were good friends with his son. Those two are the perfect examples of sheer luck, if you ask me.

Then we have the mediocre spawns of money, which do not even deserve me wasting my breath.

However, there is always someone who does not belong to any of these groups. An outstanding figure in the crowd that drives you to them no matter how hard you try to ignore the nagging curiosity in you.

I've been teaching for seven years now. Although I'm near my thirties, I feel more confident than ever in my habilities and my body. Nothing these kids say behind my back could ever make me doubt myself. And, given my sadistic nature, most of them are quick to insult me whenever the chance arises. They do not know that it is those insults that make my day better, because I know I am slowly becoming the teacher I always wanted to be.

"Good morning," I hear from the doorway. My lips slowly curl up in a smirk as I smell Sakurazaki's distinctive woody fragrance. It's so plain and common you would not think anything special out of it. Except I do. Everytime I felt her aroma travel up my nostrils my body would shudder on its own.

"Move your lazy ass inside," I don't even bother looking up from my book and continue with the lesson. I pause for a second, glancing at Sakurazaki from behind my glasses. "Detention." She nods in acknowledgement and continues doodling who-knows-what on her notebook. Her spiky ponytail cascades down her shoulder as she concentrates on her writing. The movement reveals a good fraction of skin that I can't help but ogle -discretely- as I turn around and hand my students their exams from the previous week.

"There will be no makeup test. If you didn't study the first time, I don't see why you would the second," I hear groans and protests from every direction. It doesn't surprise me. Only a third of this class passed all my tests so far, and most did by scratch. "Out of my classroom now. And tell Kagurazaka not to forget her homework again. She's already failing as it is." Sakurazaki looks puzzled as everyone stand up and shove their books and pens in their bags.

It's kind of cute, actually, how she tilts her head and just stays there, oblivious to the fact that it was she who arrived an hour and half late. She must have had late kendo training again last night and fallen asleep way past her usual hour. I usually see her and her team running around the park near my house at night, and some mornings on occasion.

Sakurazaki leaves for her next class, still a bit dizzy. As she saunters out of my classroom, I cannot help but leer at her tight backside. As soon as the door closes behind her, I pull out a book from my desk's drawer and smirk. Now all I have to do is wait patiently.

As expected, Kagurazaka skipped detention. She is probably out with Konoe and Yukihiro fooling around, buying clothes or something. I don't care. I have what I want right here.

"Sorry I was late," I smile as she closes and locks the door behind her. "Negi-sensei held me back." I hold back a growl. There is just something about the young professor that always manages to get under my skin. It is no secret that I dislike the guy and his innocent flirty glances, and his boyish smiles that always seem to charm the horny fangirls around this campus. However, today I can't be bothered with the sheep. I have at most an hour and half to enjoy myself.

"Sit," She nods and obeys, simply because, behind closed doors, such is our agreement. There is just something about seizing control from this girl; it's much more delicious when she is so willing to give it up.

I pull out my ruler from the desk's drawer. Her eyes follow with rapt attention, her body barely giving away how much she truly enjoys this, her being my favorite pet to play with. She knows I've been waiting for this all day, the little tease. I will show her.

"Lock the door," She does as I say. I snort; at least she hasn't forgotten her manners. I did not spend so much time training her so she could just forget overnight. She stands in front of the door, waiting for my next order. Such an obedient pet; I should reward her. But now is not the time. I want to break her in first, as is our custom. I want to take my time and watch her fall apart before me over and over again. And if she is indeed a good girl at the end of this session, then she will get her reward.

"Close the lids," The tip of the ruler traces my lower lip in anticipation. My tongue darts out for a second as I watch her closely, waiting for the tale-tell twitch she never quite got rid of. The one that is, sometimes, followed by a small shiver. Lately, this is the only sign of defiance I get at the beginning of our meetings, the only fragment left of the old Setsuna –the one that was so deliciously reluctant first, yet, oh, so obeying and perfect it made my thighs clamp together.

"Four steps to your right. Legs apart. Hands on the wall." Each order is carried out in synch with my words, as if Setsuna knew beforehand what I will demand from her. This is why she is so perfect for me; why we fit each other like hand and glove.

I stands and my heels click on the floor as I saunter towards my pet, hands clenching the long wooden object. I waste no time in hitting Setsuna's back with it, never strong enough to cause real harm, just pleasurable pain. It elicits a groan; I can see how Setsuna's fingers tense and then relax against the wall. Tsk; we don't have enough time today to play with those fingers, daunt and callous and exquisite against my skin –only when I feels like giving Setsuna so much.

Hitting her with the ruler is not that different than using the whip, merely a different sensation, or so Setsuna explained to me once. One is hard, solid, ruthless. The other is quick, angry and stingy. In the end, the result is the same, and we are both satisfied in our own way.

I sneak a hand around Setsuna and pull down the zipper of her jeans, too tight and compressing for what she has inside. I tease through the opening, yet Setsuna won't give in so easily, because it is not in her nature to beg so fast. I am the one that has to work it out of her.

She has yet to disobey me. She will; there hasn't been a session in which she hasn't, and I actually favor that rebellious bit about her. It would be boring if she was too docile, and I would have dumped her long time ago for that alone. I can be... quite difficult to deal with.

From the corner of my eye I growl when I see we have less than an hour. However, foreplay is far from over.

I smirk, my thumb and index finger undoing Setsuna's button and letting my palm caress her through her underwear. My pet stiffens, the first sign of yielding to be seen so far. Our breaths are slightly labored, but it is mostly because we are quite worked up.

The tip of my fingers get wet easily. I gather some more moisture before taking my fingers to Setsuna's mouth, silently demanding she cleans them. The order is met with little resistance; a warm tongue seeks the musky flavor eagerly. I am compelled to moan at the sight of my pet, so obedient and naughty at the same time. I reign it in.

It is only the beginning, after all.

Should I continue? So far this is a one-shot. If I feel like it I will make it a two-whot or maybe a three-shot. For now, let us say this is complete.