Life's good

+5 BS. 30 remaining.

Five BS? Did the app consider talking dirty to be a sexual action? I mean, it sure did feel sexual to me. I’m going to need to swing by the bathroom and, er, take care of some things before I can be a functional adult again.

I bet this app was made by the paper tissue industry.

It’s nice that I got those points though, of course. Five isn’t much, but if I do it again every time I teach this group this week, I might be able to squeeze enough BS out of them to be able to take care of Ellen a day earlier than expected.

The instructions did say that repeating the same actions with the same people would lead to diminishing results though, and threatening to spank and strip 15 girls only gave me a fairly small amount to begin with, so it’s unlikely that this will be a steady source of BS in the long run. I’ve got another group in the afternoon, but looking at the app, most of the girls in there are still unconvinced, so I’m going to have to act normal with them.

“Normal”, the word already feels alien to me, as if I should no longer be beholden to it.

To have to follow social conventions that I didn’t even get to write myself sounds oddly restrictive, in a way it never did before.

But you know what? It might be fun. I’ll play the part of a regular teacher, for one of the last times. The sunset of my old life, before dawn upon a brave new world of possibilities.

Maybe I should purposefully keep a touch of normalcy in the school in the long run, though. How about one girl that would keep acting as if I’d never had the app? I’m not sure how I can make it happen without leading to another Jenny situation, but the contrast between her abnormally normal behaviour and the depraved new standards of everyone else would be delicious to watch.

In a way, she’d be a bit like that **** that was charged with reminding triumphant Roman generals that they were still human, that their power had its limits, that the world around them was still just as real as ever, and that they had better be careful not to attract the ire of the gods. Or worse, the tax collector.

Remember, Adam, thou art mortal.

So make sure thou hast a good time down here on Earth.

After a trip to the bathroom filled with what I'll demurely call hopeful visions of the future, the rest of the day goes by uneventfully. A calm before the storm.

The group I teach in the afternoon is bigger than my main one, but since IT is not a big subject for them, I stick to very simple stuff, just some good online practices and an introduction to Excel.

I check the names of the students in the app as I record them in the attendance sheet, and then a second time when they leave the class, and sure enough, the majority of the ones that hadn’t been turned when they came in are when they leave (with the school’s total spread rate having reached 41%). There are still a few holdouts, as the larger size of the group **** the students to spread out further towards the back of the class and away from me. Maybe I should walk through the room more often when I teach. I can just say I’m checking in on their progress on the exercises I give them.

I’ll see about that tomorrow.

But first, I need to eat. With all the things I had to take care of today, I couldn’t even find the time to have lunch, and dinner’s about to start.

The teachers and other low-ranking staff have their meals right before the students do, which means that we have to hurry to get there after our last class of the day and that we have to eat as quickly as possible so we can be out before the girls come in.

Higher ranking staff, such as Ellen and the dean, have their own little dining room in the admin building, because of course they do.

I reach the quad and start crossing in direction of the cafeteria, which is in the same building as Jenny and Julian’s “studio flats” (read: the little cupboards they’re **** to sleep in). Saint Gregory Boarding School, where you don’t even need to be gay to come out of the closet, we just all do it every morning.

The cafeteria itself is quite nice though. It doesn’t feel like a high school lunchroom, or like a fancy restaurant, as you may have expected considering the students’ tastes. Instead, it just feels like an unusually large dining room. The room is carved out of a bunch of little alcoves, each containing two or three tables, and you don’t really hear too much of the chatter coming from other alcoves when you’re sitting in one, nor can you see them very well. You just go grab your food in the self-service area in the centre of the room and then pick an alcove. It feels both communal and private at the same time.

I guess the architects’ love for overcomplicated design actually paid off this time. You know what they say about broken clocks.

As I walk into the room, I see that most of my colleagues are already there.

I quickly grab a plate that I fill with day-old bread, lukewarm vegetables and reheated meat.

This’ll have to change too.

I notice Jenny sitting in a mostly empty alcove (as most of them are, considering there’s only around 30 of us in a room made for 200) and make my way towards her.

“Hey there Jenny.”

“Hi buddy!” She exclaims, putting her hand in front of her mouth to keep the food in.

“How was your day?” I ask as I sit down in front of her.

“Ah, same old, same old… You seem in a really good mood though. Did the vending machine give you back too much change again?”

That had been the best thing to happen to me at this school until I got the app.

It’s kinda sad to think about.

“Nah, but my classes went pretty well. I finally managed to get some respect.”

“Oh yeah? With these girls? How’d you manage?”

“Nothing too out of the ordinary, just some good old discipline. I told them I was gonna spank them, strip them, pinch their nipples…”

“Oh I bet that got them to shut up! Did you tell them you were gonna **** them to lick your balls? That’s a classic. I bet all the female teachers wish they could use that one,” she chuckles, before pausing and raising a hand to her temple in a confused expression “Ah, but wait, right, I forgot. It’s not a classic, you made it up and made everyone believe it. And it feels so real. God you really made a mess of us all... That's so…” she trails off, and I swear I can see her bite her lower lip for a split second.

“Hot?” I venture in a low voice.

She looks to the side with an embarrassed expression, I can see her cheeks blush and her breathing get a bit more intense.

“Yeah,” she admits, her voice matching mine in volume. “God, I can’t wait for you to use your powers on me again.”

“I can’t wait either. I’m sure you’re gonna love it. There’s so much I want to do to you. So many ways to fuck up your smart, pretty little brain. To reduce your thoughts to mere putty in my hands.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me.”

Her voice is barely more than a whisper and barely less than a moan, and I see her bite into her finger as she waits for my answer.

I lean forward and look her straight in the eyes, my voice even lower in volume than hers.

“Now, now. If I tell you, won’t that ruin the surprise? You’ll know it when you hear it. But before I fool around in your thoughts, I’d like to let you experience mind control from a different perspective.”

Her breathing gets even faster.

“How do you mean?”

“How would you like to help me scramble up Ellen’s brain, to see her mind get turned upside down before your very eyes? To see a cold, independent woman be turned into a helpless puppet to our depraved whims.”

She takes a sharp breath and shifts her sitting, it’s hard to say for sure from here, but it looks like she’s squeezing her legs together.

“Yes please,” she manages to ask as she keeps shifting in her seat, gently rubbing her thighs against one another.

I smile wolfishly before telling her about my plan.