Back to class

I take a celebratory sip of coffee as I put the final dot of red ink on the final paper I had to grade. It was one of the less convincing ones that were turned in. After a while of doing this job, you can tell at a glance which papers are going to be annoying to grade. And if you’re like me, you just put them at the bottom of the pile for future you to deal with. But regardless, I’m done, with a good fifteen minutes to spare.

I’ve been sitting in this room ever since I left Tatiana and her sycophants on the floor to recover from their life-changing experience of self-humiliation — even though they’re still in denial about it — and I could do with some fresh air.

I lock up the graded papers in the large metal cabinet by the blackboard and leave the classroom, not bothering to lock the door behind me, so the students can come in and sit down whenever they get here.

A few minutes later, I’m leaning against the outside wall of the building and taking in the fresh morning air. The weather’s definitely growing windy and somewhat chilly, and some of the trees around the campus are taking on an autumnal hue. It’s strange that as the weather gets colder, the colours of nature get warmer. As if all the heat was sucked out from the air and into the dying leaves.

I hope I don’t grow indifferent to the beauty of nature in my hedonistic quest for earthly pleasures. It’d be easy to become numb to all these little things that make the spice of life, and to only chase ever higher, ever more intense sexual thrills. Lust isn’t just about getting pleasure, it’s about wanting it. The need, the search, the pursuit; it’s the journey that makes the destination so sweet. But the better I get at reaching that pleasure without any hurdles, the less satisfying it’ll be, and the more I’ll need before I’m satisfied.

It’s human nature. We can’t ever be satisfied by what we have. Only in the chase itself can we ever be fulfilled.

I told you earlier that putting me in Tantalus’s lake would be an unending torment for me, but it’s not just because I couldn’t ever reach what I desire, it’s that I couldn’t ever even begin to chase it. To give someone everything they ever want without any obstacle would be just as torturous, it’d just take a bit longer to start feeling like ****.

And that’s another thing I want to avoid. It’s not just for the sake of the girls that I’ve put so many rules and restrictions on my powers, it’s for myself as well. To avoid falling into this upward spiral of debauchery that could only ever lead to my nemetic downfall, and that of all those I’d have corrupted around me.

Truth be told, I’d never really thought things out so clearly before. I knew there was another reason behind my decision, but it was a bit fuzzy, a musing in that penumbra between the conscious and the subconscious, where you can tell that you had a thought, but you can’t fully identify it.

Man, there really is no better time for introspection than when you’re alone, outside, in a cool morning. You’ll learn more about yourself than any other time, aside maybe from a nice shower after a long, exhausting day.

Speaking of long, exhausting days, mine is about to start. I get back inside the school and walk back to my classroom.

As I enter it, I can see that I was right to leave the door open, as a handful of students are already in their seats, most of them idling on their phones or chatting among themselves.

Among the ones chatting is Rachel. She seems to be getting along quite well with Isabel, which is amazing to see. I’m not surprised that Isabel would be the first one that she’d feel comfortable talking to, since they’re both nerds in their own ways.

I think I’m actually proud of her, which isn’t really an emotion I fully expected, but I suppose it makes sense considering how much I’ve involved myself in her predicament, and considering how crippling her social anxiety was when we first talked.

“Good morning, sir!” Rachel chirps when she notices me.

A few other girls turn and greet me as well.

This basic display of respect from them still feels incredible.

As I said, it’s the small things that make the spice of life.

As I look towards my desk, I notice something unusual underneath it.

Two human feet.

Is someone trying to break open the cabinet next to it to steal the papers?

I pick up my pace as I approach my desk, only to find that in lieu of robbing, the mysterious intruder is instead rubbing. More specifically, rubbing a wet cloth on the side of the desk to clean out coffee stains.

“Ivy? What are you doing here?”

She turns to me, only now noticing my presence, her hair kept out of her face by a small, white headscarf.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m cleaning your mess. How can you work in these conditions?” She shakes her head reproachfully.

I don’t really know how to respond, so I just let her focus on her cleaning for a few seconds, before asking, in a much less assertive voice than I would’ve liked.

“It’s not... that bad, is it?”

“Kinda is. If you wanna set this dump of a school on the right path, you need to live and work in the best possible conditions. And this...” She says as she points to my Drawer of Shame. “... is not it. I mean, how the hell are you gonna be able to focus on those goals of yours if you never know where all your stuff is? A well ordered desk is a well ordered mind, sir!” She continues, tapping my desk with her fist for emphasis.

I have to say she does raise a good point. My desk is an absolute mess, and so are my thoughts.

“Please tell me your flat is in a better state than this...” She continues in the worried voice of someone who already knows what the answer will be.

“I... haven’t had much time to maintain it lately,” I concede, carefully avoiding to say that my "flat" is really more of a dorm room.

She tuts and shakes her head in endeared annoyance.

“You’re probably really busy,” She sighs after a short pause. “But I’m not letting you live in a dump like this...”

Clearly I haven’t brainwashed that judgemental side out of her. I’m not sure how to feel about it in the long term, but it’s definitely a lot more fun than mindless deference would’ve been.

I could ask her to come and clean up my place, but I’d rather see her bring up the idea on her own.

“What do you mean ‘not letting me’?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

“I mean that I’m coming to your place and fixing it up whether you like it or not! Five o’clock today. Be there or I’m picking the lock,” She wags her finger.

I’m not sure how serious she’s being, but I’d rather not take any chances.

“Alright, five o’ clock. If you do a good job, I might reward you.”

She may enjoy cleaning for the sake of cleaning, but I haven’t forgotten how well positive reinforcement works on her, and doing so might slightly speed up the progress of her path belief.

“Thank you sir!” She gasps enthusiastically.

“I’ll need you to get back to your seat though, I’ve got a class to teach.”

“Yes, sir!”

She snaps to her feet and goes to sit down in the front row, not bothering to take off the scarf in her black hair.

The front row is much more tightly packed than usual, now that I think about it. Rachel used to sit all the way in the back, away from everyone, but now that’s she more comfortable being upfront, she’s also more comfortable being up front, and she’s got a few girls sitting next to her.

I smile in satisfaction at her progress, before beginning my lesson.

It goes by fairly uneventfully, with just an average number of fondles and spanks. Halfway through, I get a notification from the app that another teacher also had her way with a student. All in all, I got another 17 BS, bringing my total up to 35. I do notice that groping has started to give diminishing returns, but the increase in frequency should make up for it in the short term, and I should be able to develop it further if I need more BS later down the line.

You know, now that I think about it, the fact that the establishment I’m corrupting is a school is quite serendipitous. Every student will eventually get to the point where most sexual acts don’t give much BS, if any, but every new year will bring in newly enrolled girls to whom every belief will be fresh, which means that I’ll be getting an insane amount of BS every year for as long as... well, maybe as long as the school exists.

I’m not really sure what’s going to happen when the person that I initially gave the belief to leaves the social group. Does it stay in, or do I have to “transfer it” to their replacement?

I’ve got a good 30 years to go before Ellen retires, so it’s not exactly an urgent question to answer, but you never know what could happen.

When I finish my lesson, I dismiss the class and watch it gradually empty itself of its students, almost all of which politely wish me a good day on the way out.

“Five o’ clock!” Ivy reminds me before stepping out of the room.

“You go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a bit,” Rachel tells her new friend with a bright smile.

Isabel obliges and leaves the room, leaving just the two of us inside.

Rachel waits for a few seconds, before closing the door and turning to face me. I see a cortege of emotion going through her face in just an instant. Relief, happiness, gratitude, and determination.

She steps towards me, throws her arms off to her side and hugs me tightly.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you so much! I’ve been thinking about what you told me Saturday and you were so right! I don’t even remember everything you said, but it’s been so much easier talking to people. And it feels so good!”

I can’t help but be moved by her grateful joy, and I lightly wrap my hands around her back.

And... I’m only noticing now that her shirt is a bit looser around her belly than before, although it’s still just as tight around her chest, and her trousers seem quite full in the back. It seems like her body upgrade has started to kick in, shifting her weight from her belly to her breasts and butt, although the difference is still small enough that I hadn’t noticed until now.

But now that I’m looking for it, she’s definitely looking a lot better than before. Not only because the anxiety has all but left her, freeing her of the constant wrinkling and slouching that plagued her demeanour until now, but also because her face is looking... different. Her cheeks are a bit thinner than before, just enough to make it cuter without detracting from what made her unique, and her skin is almost free of any blemishes, in a natural, healthy looking way that two days of skincare and a layer of foundation simply couldn’t achieve.

“Crazy what a bit of confidence can do to your body, isn’t it?” She asks, clearly noticing my stares.

“You look... much happier,” I respond to justify my leering.

“And sexier too! You wanna see?” She asks matter-of-factly.

She doesn’t even bother to wait for my answer to start unbuttoning her shirt, revealing a plain, but admittedly cute bra, whose pastel pink fabric seems unusually strained by the pale flesh within, its two mounds squeezed together, creating an inviting, narrow valley.

She casually drops her shirt on the closest desk, before undoing the buckle of her belt, letting her skirt fall to the floor. I’m only now noticing how much she had to tighten said belt to keep her modesty intact. Clearly these clothes were made for a woman of a completely different shape.

Her panties are a cute honeydew green. The mismatch with her bra is another hint as to how casual she’s being about her exposure. She didn’t plan or even expect to strip, otherwise she would’ve probably chosen something more matching. Instead, she just felt like stripping and didn’t really think twice about it.

But why? I didn’t put any specific belief into her about being so sexually forward towards me.

“So, pretty hot, huh?” She asks, twirling around in her underwear.

And who would’ve thought she’d be so confident once she got over her anxiety?

“I have to say you’re looking wonderful!” I reply.

“Awww, thank you!” She exclaims before hugging me again, holding her exposed body tightly against mine.

She seems to notice the immediate reaction in my loins, as she smiles and whispers into my ear.

“Is this an erection or are you just happy to..." She trails off and looks pensive for a second. "Wait, I got it wrong...”

Sounds like confidence is no substitute for experience after all.

“It’s alright,” I chuckle. “It’s cute.”

“I am quite cute, aren’t I? Man, I feel so comfortable around you, now. I don’t even feel so bad about saying something silly like that.”

Comfortable! That’s why she’s being so forward.

I hadn’t even considered that interaction between two aspects of her path.

The app said that she’d be sexually promiscuous with those she considers her friends, but also that she’d see me as a confidant and be willing to tell me about the secrets others place in her.

But of course, in order to see me as a confidant, she’d need to see me as somewhat of a friend. It’s simply the most straightforward way for her to rationalise her tattling.

I would never have expected something like this to happen, but I can’t say I’m complaining.

“Well, I’m feeling quite comfortable too,” I smile as I wrap my hand around her waist and get ahold of her butt through her underwear.

And I can now tell that, much like her bra, her panties are getting much too tight for her shifting body as it moulds itself into an ever more flattering shape. The fabric is stretched thin across her skin, and I can feel a slight bump in the flesh of her thighs as it leaves the garment and is free to take up all the space it needs.

She’s clearly going to need some more fitting clothes soon. I had better make sure the school updates its dress code soon, otherwise she may need to buy a new wardrobe twice over. It may not be a big financial burden for her, but it’d still be wasteful.

See how responsible I am? Being an evil overlord the ecological way!

I could make an Elon Musk joke here, but it’d be too easy.

I let my hand massage her cheek for a few seconds, and she soon returns the favour, wrapping her fingers tightly around my backside.

I insert a finger underneath the fabric of her underwear, wary that that little bit of added tension might be enough to completely tear it apart, but it does hold on to dear life.

My finger probes around her skin, exploring her most intimate curves, when suddenly, she takes a step back, startled.

Did I do something she wasn’t ready for?

“Sorry sir, I forgot Isabel was waiting for me! Can we... maybe... keep going later?” She asks with a playful wink.

“That sound lovely,” I smile. “Now go catch up to her, she’s gonna be worried!”

She waves me goodbye, quickly grabs her clothes from the desk and runs out of the classroom with her panties still exposed and her shirt only half on, having seemingly shed any sense of pudor at the same time as she did anxiety.

I didn’t want to make her feel **** to stay, but I have to admit I’m getting a bit frustrated at not being able to actually reach an... enjoyable outcome. It’s not the first time I’ve been cockblocked in the past few days.

And today marks one week since I’ve gotten the app.

So I’m not sure what I’m getting today, or with whom, but I know I want to go further than I have so far.

And I do have a couple leads.

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Hello everyone!

This chapter was kind of a strange one to write, as I had to do most of it from a hotel room in Germany, since I'm on a work trip there at the moment. Turns out the rumours about German internet being terrible do match with my experience, which didn't help, but I'm glad I managed to get this done nonetheless!

As always, thank you for reading and for your patience, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you all next time!

Edit: I forgot to mention Rachel grabbing her clothes on the way out. It's now fixed. Thanks to JaminGold for making me notice!