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While it wasn’t unusual for daily schedules to follow the same rigorous steps at Buckspark Elementary, there was one repeated task that the staff despised: cleaning up whatever mess Damien had caused today.
It wasn’t like it was his fault, when all the tenseness in his chest and head boiled over, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Whether it meant breaking a bunch of expo markers after Mr.Channley gave him another bad grade, or pulling Molly Riggors hair after she took his favorite window seat again, it was much more satisfying than he figured letting his brain explode would be, which is what he could only assume that painful pressure was leading to. He knew all the staff and student body hated him, what with the lonely recesses and quiet lunches in the principal's office was, it was a given.
The only person who didn’t seem to hate him was Miss Dionaea.
Anytime she would see him, she’d give her a smile that he felt was more like a horse's smile than a humans, but he liked it all the same. She’d usually have a snack bar waiting for him in her dorky little fanny pack with too many peeling stickers on it, which she would already be pressing into his hand before he could remind her that he wasn’t supposed to take handouts. She’d always giggle at that, a laugh that sounded like Christmas bells in his ears, before ushering him into the classroom. As nice as it all was, it was hard to pay attention in her class, with the echo of her laugh and the taste of chocolate stuck on his mind.
She often helped him with his work, not just during her own class, but also during extracurricular he wasn’t allowed to participate in anymore, and during the short hour after school she had before she’d have to go. He felt like he’d learned more since the beginning of 6th grade than he had in the other 11 years of his life, all from Miss Dionaea. She was more than eccentric, but the way she waved her hands around while she spoke and the messy scribbles that could barely be discerned as handwriting seemed to speak to him more than all the other shoddy teachers had, like she could see in his mind what he needed. He sure hoped she couldn’t though, the amount of times he’d missed directions and I had to luck guess through an assignment after watching her boobs jiggle for too long would surely get him suspended.
For once, he had a reason to go to school. Before, his father would drag him out of bed when he left by his legs and curse him out for whatever had made him mad that morning, the stink of liquor still on his teeth, and he wasn’t really pressed to be around more people who see him as more of a pest than a person. He would go eventually, usually after the more annoying morning classes, because being at home when his dad came home for lunch was a one way ticket to not walking right for a week. Now, he swallowed the bile that bubbled up at the taste of stale beer because World History was his first bell, and after seeing how worried Miss Dionaea had been the first time he skipped, he couldn’t stomach letting her down again; not letting her down is also why he spends less time in detention as of recent as well.
Damien didn’t really know what had changed. Before, he wouldn’t even bother worrying about what other people thought of him, especially not the school staff, and especially not the teachers. But over time, the rich chocolate and the song of bells had made his head feel more navigable; instead of blowing up, he had enough forethought to express his rage, or break himself away from the situation. The solutions didn’t seem to make the teachers happy, but he could finally walk around without feeling like every set of eyes was waiting for him to break something again, which was a relief. As the absences, the detentions, and the suspensions dried up, so did the calls home, and so did his fathers wrath, which made it easier to clear his head; it was an endless positive cycle, one that was a relieving change. It was a nice change of schedule everyone seemed to appreciate.
But as with everything, it never lasts.
“Oh, hello Damien.” He immediately paused, his hand already out, but his mind blank. Miss Dionaea was hoarse, her usually sickeningly sweet tone weighed with something outside his comprehension. The snackbar was placed just as gently in his hand, however, so he shook his head in an attempted recovery.
“Sheesh,” he hissed, ”aren’t you guys supposed to stay home if you’re sick? You sound like you’re gargling toads.” He tore into the snack bar, and even as her hand pressed to his shoulder to move him inside as per usual, he stood his ground. “I’m serious, the last thing I need is to be stuck at home with the fucking flu. Do you need some throat spray or something?”
Miss Dionaea sighed deeply, before giving Damien a weak smile, “I’m not sick, thank you for the concern. If you want to talk to me about it, it’ll have to wait after class, ok?” He wasn’t very convinced, but he had a hard time denying her pleading hazel eyes, so he simply huffed and shuffled inside.
The rest of the bell was no better. Damien felt like he was watching a shell of Miss Dionaea, or even like a clone who didn’t know how to do everything just right; she was drained, her voice sounded gritty and thick, and she didn’t even knock something over waving her arms around! He was distracted as always, but for once he wished it was because of her tits or her laugh. This distraction didn’t feel nice, he just felt heavy and tired watching her.
After the bell rang and the rest of the class filed out, he stayed in his seat, watching them leave. Miss Dionaea watched them too, eyes flicking between the sea of kids and himself, clearly expecting him to move, but he wasn’t going anywhere without knowing what had happened.
“My fiance broke it off,” she admitted after a good minute of prodding, “said he made a mistake and I just wasn’t the one, and he didn’t feel like being tied down before he’d really experienced the world.” Damien caught how her massive eye roll seemed more to dispel her tears than to mock the so-called man she had been with, and gritted his teeth.
“Wow, he sounds like a fucking loser,” Miss Dionaea gasped, but he continued, “his loss. He’s gonna come crawling back after whatever side pussy he found isn’t as fun and nice as you are.” He chewed on his cuticle, pressure building in his skull. What kind of freak lets a woman like Miss Dionaea go? “He must’ve hit his head hard, even my dad wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave you, and we can agree he’s a grade a dumbass.”
“Language, Damien.” She gave him a warning glare, but he just shrugged it off, knowing she wouldn’t reprimand him for real. Gently, she took his hand away from his gnawing mouth, making his skin crawl at her touch. “People don’t always know what they’re really feeling until they’re forced to face it, and I suppose the cake testing was the line for him. He is a wonderful man, he just isn’t ready for the commitment he thought he was.”
“Who buys a ring if they’re not ready!?” Damien challenged her dismissal almost immediately. She seemed surprised by his bite, leaning back a little, and he relaxed in return, clenching and unclenching his hand around hers. “Rings are expensive, you know. I get worried about spending money on those stupid gumball machines in the arcade, and those are literally quarters. He had to have thought long and hard about buying something that expensive.”
Miss Dionaea's smile was beginning to look sweet, almost as sickly as always. That was a good sign, at least. He was still holding her hand, and he had half the mind to take it away, but the way her calloused fingers pressed into his skin made his heart stammer. He couldn’t imagine someone making so far as to almost marry her just to let her go for something so stupid and shallow, especially considering how intoxicating her touch was. He’d seen what his dad did to some of the women had brought home, and if they were doing that on the regular, he couldn’t even imagine being able to think enough to even work, let alone look elsewhere.
“Wait,” Damien pulled away quickly, before messing with his fingers, “I want to help. I mean, help you feel better right now. I have an idea, just… Trust me?” Miss Dionaea’s eyebrows hid behind her curly bangs as he ran to check the lock on the door, and then stood on his toes to peek out the window. Not a soul in sight.
“Damien, your thoughtfulness is appreciated, but I don’t need you to-” Her sentence was cut short by Damien’s lips. She gasped quietly, opening her mouth just enough for Damien to taste the coffee she was drinking before he was pushed off. “Woah, woah, Damien! That is highly inappropriate! I am your teacher, we can’t- we can’t do things like that.” He felt his skin burn, hot with embarrassment. Her eyes were tearing him apart, like she was looking for what in the world made him be so stupid.
“I- but, your fiance-” he couldn’t catch his breath, the hot embarrassment mixed with the sticky taste of coffee and arousal making everything go blank. “You deserve to feel good, and I can- I can make you feel good! I know how! I saw those stupid videos dad hides in his closet, and all those women looked like they were having fun! Isn’t that what adults do to feel better…?” He met her eyes, finally seeming to catch his labored breathing, just to lose it all again with the look she was giving him. She was completely unreadable to him, but the look still made the erection he was trying to hide dig into his zipper harder. Her legs were crossed, exposing just the slightest bit of underwear at his angle, and he forced himself to keep his attention on her and not the peep yellow panties.
“Damien… those are things adults do, yes, but you are not an adult-”
“I can be!” He cut her off, pushing into her personal space again and leaning his weight against her shoddy office chair, effectively trapping her in her seat. “You know how mature I am! You- I’ve been doing so much better, I don’t break things anymore! I can pretend, we can play pretend!” Her frown made his conviction waver, but he refused to let up. She never gave up on him either. “We- you don’t have to touch me ok? I’ll do all the work- I know what I’m doing! I promise! I just want you to see I can do it for you, please?”
He felt so helpless, begging like a child, asking to play pretend. He was above this, way far above it, but even just seeing her eyes glassy was starting to make his brain feel like it weighed a million pounds. He’d stand here forever, with her judgemental and worried eyes taking in his quivering form, if it meant she’d never be sad again. He’d never meant it more in his entire life.
He’s broken from his thoughts as fingers trace up his arms gently, making him shiver. “I wouldn’t have to touch you at all?... And you promise to make me feel better?” Her eyes bore into him and he nodded without hesitation, nails digging into the cheap plastic of the chairs arms. Finally, she let out a sigh, biting her lip. “Alright, but you have to be quick, I have a c-” her words are cut off as her hand slapped over her mouth as Damien's hand shot under her skirt with marked precision to find her cunt. He quickly found his mark, and slid his fingers under her panties, rubbing her folds gently. Sighing behind her hand, she let her eyes close and leaned her head back, only jolting when his fingers pressed against her clit.
Damien grinned to himself, feeling like he was on top of the world as he spun his fingers around the small nub, earning him a quiet “oh!” and a wiggle. He remembered how the guys in the videos he watched would press their thumbs into it, and he followed the motion, digging the pad of his thumb into her and rolling.
“Oh- Damien…” He felt her words shoot straight to his straining cock, but he put it at the back of his mind, keeping his promise in mind. He quickly let go of her chair, falling to his knees to get a better look at his job. Her pussy was more intimidating up close, the velvety folds shining from her slick, but he ignored the bubble of fear and licked her. The shiver and quiet moan he was rewarded with made him more optimistic, and he pressed in harder, using his tongue to find her entrance and pressing his tongue in.
His ears rang as he felt the inside of her on his tongue, the plush walls of her vagina twitching around his tongue. He pressed it in and out, before swirling it around inside. Finally, he remembered her clit, and brought his thumb back up to play with it.
“Damien- Ohh, Damien…” Fingers dug into his shaggy mop of hair, his brain shorting for a second at the gentle pull. “Where did you learn to eat pussy like this, dear? If it was just from watching porn, you’re more talented than I thought…” The praise made his head spin, and instead of responding he buried himself as deep as he could go, spinning his finger so hard it felt like it would cramp. But if she would tug his hair and whine even one more time, he’d wish for his hands to be cramped forever.
When her legs suddenly clamped around his head, he thought he was going to die. He dug his nails into the plush skin and her body trembled and twitched around him; he was obsessed with the taste of her on his tongue, her wet slick pooling in his mouth and dripping off his chin, and obscene suckling noises causing his weeping cock to pulse with desire. As sudden as the pressure of her thighs were there, they were gone, leaving him panting and leaning against her.
After a few deep breaths, Miss Dionaea let out a relieved sigh, the kind he recognized from when he’d finally solve a long division problem. “Damien that was…” He looked up at her from her lap and her voice caught in her throat, “Oh, look at you. I’ve made you a mess…”
“You taste good, better than the chocolate you give me.” His voice was hardly above a whisper, but he could tell from the way she bit her perfect lips and tugged at a strand of her hair that she had heard. She looked at him with adoration, and he looked back with just as much awe. He needed more.
“Ah-!” Miss Dionaea barely had time to register his next move before he was stuck to her clit like a leech. She bucked into his face, holding back the cry she wanted to let out and holding his head close.
“Oh, Damien- I’m sensitive still, be easy honey-” The words fell on deaf ears. In fact, it only seems to spur him on, two fingers plunging inside her to replace what was previously his tongue. The first few pumps were awkward as he adjusted to the new feeling and angle, but he found his pace with ease and made sure to dig his fingers into the spongy part deep in her. She could barely think straight, only able to gasp and roll her hips against the sudden onslaught, quickly edging on another orgasm.
“ Da-aaamien, oh honey, baby please-” The darkness behind her eyelids filled with bright white stars, hips shooting up to meet Damiens face. Which was nice, in the moment, but with no weight, the wheely office chair below her took its leave, quickly making the scene turn into chaos. Miss Dionaea tried desperately to pull the chair back in time, but her ass was meeting the cold tile floor before she could even fully register the situation, Damien's head still buried in her pussy, dragged down by her own hand. Her walls still twitching and her ass now aching, she let the young man go, who looked at her with a dazed expression.
“Oh, I am so sorry, hun- are you hurt?” Gently, she cradled his head, making sure she hadn’t tugged him too hard in her ecstasy. He gave a few slow blinks before he shook his head, mind finally catching up.
“No, I- I’m fine. Are you hurt? Falling on these pieces of shit tiles sucks, I would know.” He hesitated before gently running his fingers over her ass, swallowing at how her skin felt under his fingertips. She smiled and nodded. The aura was tense, both of them on eye level for the first time since… Well, forever. Despite the slick still on his lips and chin, his throat felt dry, like he hadn’t had a drink in years. Miss Dionaea came up to gently rub his cheek, making the world blur around him.
This time, the kiss was accepted with grace. He hadn’t meant to go in with such heat, but after being buried against her cunt for so long, he needed to get a good taste of all of her. He couldn’t taste much past the saltiness of the slick stuck in his mouth, but the way her skilled tongue danced against his and pushed into his mouth made up for it. He didn’t know what he was doing here, but she made up for it, leading the hot kiss until they both needed oxygen. He panted, only inches from her face and clinging to her shirt like she would disappear if he didn’t.
“You’ve done very good Damien, very good…” Her praise dug into his skin, making him feel alight, “But I do think this deal was a little unfair, in hindsight. How about we make a deal, yeah? You helped me… I help you.” Her fingers trace the heavy bulge in his pants, and he nearly cums immediately. In all his work, he’d seriously ignored how hot and hard his cock was, and he had to lean against her for support.
“M- miss Dion-”
“Ellie,” she quickly corrects, popping the button on his jeans, “just call me Ellie, baby.” With the extra access, she quickly pushes her hand into his boxers, rolling her thumb over his slit. He was saturated with precum, and more bubbled out at her intrusion with a keen and a sharp jerk of his hips.
“Ellie, please… I already feel so good, please…” Her throat felt dry, Damien whimpering her name so earnestly made her stomach twist. Quickly, she laid him out on the cool tile, pulling his jeans and boxers off in one move. For a split second, she worried about protection, but when he whimpered again and grabbed onto her skirt, she couldn’t even think about that. She sunk down on his prepubescent cock with a sigh.
Almost immediately, she could feel the hot spurts of cum in her, Damien shaking with the pleasure of it all, teeth clamped on his hand. Quickly, she rolled his shirt up to replace his hand, making sure he was biting down before rocking her hips. She knew this was meant to be for Damien’s pleasure, but feeling his hot cum and his cute little cock in her pussy was making her go insane, and there wasn’t much time for him to recover from his orgasm before she was slamming her hips down against him.
Damien writhed in pleasure, trying desperately to keep up with her breakneck pace, but he could hardly see straight, let alone think for long enough to follow her rhythm. He felt like he was dying, his body tense with ecstasy, tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried out into the shirt in his mouth. Never had he felt something so good in his life. He dug his nails into her soft thighs, trying to desperately anchor himself to reality.
“You’re such a good boy, Damien, you are such a good boy for me!” Ellie leaned over, taking a pause from her bouncing to grind against his pelvis and pepper his face with kisses. He gargled a response behind his damp shirt, a mix of a whine and a sob, hips uselessly fucking up against her cunt. Grabbing his legs, she tucked her own underneath so she could angle his cock deeper, properly sheathing him in her heat. He cried out again, digging his heels into the ground to piston himself into her, hands coming to hold her hips tightly. She let him take the reins, leaning down against him and kissing his soft chest.
It wasn’t long before his hips started to stutter and his rhythm was lost, one last cry before he buried himself to the hilt to spill his cum into her again. Ellie sighs against his neck, letting him empty his balls deep in her walls with a smile. Once his body had finally gone limp, she raised herself over him and stuck two fingers inside her used pussy. Using them, she pushed as much as she could to the deepest parts of her cunt, hoping to secure every single drop inside her womb.
With a final kiss to his forehead, she mumbles, “Good job Damien, you’re getting full marks.”