Sept. 16th 2024

Beep, beep, beep

Your eyes open and you turn your head to look at the offending alarm clock.

5:50 AM

Lifting an arm, you slam your hand down onto the snooze button. Throwing back the covers, you sit up and stretch.

"Fuck... 5:50 arrives earlier every day." You observe out loud. Getting up, you wander over to the dresser and fish out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

Heading into the bathroom, you quickly shave before turning on the shower. Hopping in, you were still sudsing up when the shower door opened behind you.

"Good morning, Daddy." A very nude Lili greeted you. Stepping in, she closed the door, saying. "Want some help washing your back."

"Sure, why not?" you replied as you handed her the soap. Closing your eyes, you grunted in pleasure as her hands wandered around your back. Enjoying her touch, you let her thoroughly soap your back. That is until she giggled and tugged on your dick.

"That's not my back," you groaned as her soapy hand jacked you. After a half dozen tugs, you weren't getting hard.

"Oh pooh," Lili pouted. "I guess we tired you out too much."

Turning around, you kissed the disappointed teen, saying. "It's not your fault, sweet pea; my errand last night was especially exhausting."

Lilies eyes flared with interest as she asked. "Who was the lucky girl?... Jennifer, maybe Tina or Kat."

Using a finger to shush her, you say. "As a matter of fact, it was Bailey Hutchinson, nosey."

Surprised, Lili wrinkled her nose, saying. "The goth girl, that Bailey?"

Nodding, you confirm, "Yes, that's Bailey."

Lili cocked her head for a minute before saying, "hmmmmmm..."

Amused, you say, "What does that mean?"

Lili shrugs, looking a little sheepish, and says. "Well... it's just that, ummm... Beth and I thought she was a dyke."

Momentarily stunned, you stare at the teen before both break out in fits of laughter. 10 minutes later you turned off the water, and Lili exited the shower stall, snagging a towel and disappearing back to her bedroom.

Getting dressed, you head down the hall to the living room with the smell of bacon and eggs attacking you.

Sitting down to eat, you tell Sunyi and the girls about your meeting with the lawyer for the frat boys after school.

Taking a sip of her O.J., Krystal asks. "What's it about?"

You are taking a moment to think about it before saying it. "I think they'll offer me a settlement to make this go away."

"Will you take it?" Queried Sunyi.

"I think I'll take it," you reply after a moment. Krystal looked like she was going to say something, but you decided to cut her off.

"Krystal I have too much to lose by not settling," you calmly remind her.

"What do you mean..." then her eyes widened as she gasped, "Ooohhhhhhhh."

"Yup," you concluded, finishing your bacon.

Finishing breakfast, the girls grabbed their things, rushing out the door. Meeting you at the door, Sunyi handed you your briefcase, wishing you a good day.

The morning commute went by quickly. Krystal and Lili were mostly murmuring to each other as they fiddled with their phones.

You were close to school when the morning news bit started on the radio. The news was dominated by news stories from the weekend. The first was an apparent assassination attempt that was foiled by the Secret Service at Mar-a-Lago. The other was the arrest of Sean "Diddy" Combs on sex trafficking charges.

You were pulling into your parking space when the weather report started. As you cut the engine, they were talking about several new low-pressure systems taking firm hold over the Atlantic.

"Thanks, Uncle Jason," Krystal called out as she opened her door.

Slowly getting out of the car, you could only watch as the girls streaked into the school. "Fuck, I need coffee," you think to yourself as you trudge into the building.

Before heading to the teachers' lounge, you first stop off at the main office. Opening the door, you entered, finding Alice already at her desk.

Alice looks up as you approach, flashing a smile. Returning it, you nod, saying, "Good morning, Alice." Setting your briefcase on the counter, you open it up, retrieving the cash box from the car wash.

"These are the proceeds from the team's car wash. Who should I leave this with? You ask her.

Alice, ever efficient, takes charge of the funds from you. She quickly counts everything, and you both sign off on it.

Wishing her a good day, you lock the briefcase and retrieve your mail when you hear it.

"Ah, Mr. Clarkson, just the man I wanted to see."

Pulling out the 4 envelopes, you reply. "I am ever your obedient servant, your grace." Turning around, you flash the principal a smile, asking, "What's up, Barbara?"

Barbara Smalley, wearing a rather fetching purple pants suit, walked over to you. In a low tone she leaned in, saying, "Tell me about Friday night."

For a second your heart froze as irrationally the thought, 'Oh my god, she knows,' ran through your mind. You blink, then it occurs to you. She's talking about coach Reese.

"What's there to say?" you tell her. Coach Reese was pissed when the team lost. When we finally got to the hotel, I immediately went to bed. Then around 3 am Tom, his assistant, woke me up saying Coach Reese got hammered and apparently tried to proposition a cop."

The flat, stony look that came over Barbara made you inwardly cringe. The boom was about to be lowered.

"That jives with what Thomlinson told me," she confirmed. She then asked, "Is there anything I need to know?"

Inwardly you were jumping for joy at this turn of events. Plastering a solemn look on your face, you tell her. "Well, now that you mention it, there is something else."

You see her perk up and decide to plunge the dagger home. "Right after, and I mean right after. Coach Reese stormed up to me and accused Jennifer Marlow of, quote, "making her cheerleader stop dating his players," unquote.

"Huh," Barabara murmured in disbelief.

"Yup," you nodded. "Then he told me to fix it or he would."

"RRReeeaaallly nnnooowwww," she said as her eyes sparked dangerously. Barabara then wished you a good morning, saying not to worry about anything; she'll take care of it.

Exiting the office, you ambled to your classroom. Opening up your classroom, put your briefcase away and retrieve your coffee mug. Leaving, you make the quick jaunt to the lounge and return coffee in hand to start the day.

First and second periods were fairly subdued. The football team had lost, and of course with the cheerleaders spending Sunday busting their collective asses and more than a few burning them.

You still did your best covering the intricacies of continental politics during the revolution. But judging from how hard it was to keep your students' attention, you were already planning to review the lesson come test time.

When third period came around, you took time to head back to the lounge for another cup of coffee. Settling back at your desk, you opened your mail.

The first was congratulations from Gene on the success of the car wash. He wrote that as unfortunate as it was that the girls didn't follow the dress code, it wasn't your fault, and he wouldn't hold it against you.

"CYA," you think to yourself, as you know full well Gene really enjoyed watching those same girls prancing around, breaking dress code.

Gene ended the memo reminding you to write a thank-you note to the Elks Lodge.

The second letter was from the teachers' union. You were now officially a member. The final two had to do with requirements for continuing your education.

Having dealt with that, you turned to your school email and started the draining task of your students' parents lecturing you on what they think history means.

Fourth period came around as your students came in, taking their seats. Rebecca was not among them. You looked at Jennifer, who mouthed, "After class." Being later in the day, your students were having a better time following what you were saying. After a productive 55 minutes the bell rang, ending the period.

Jennifer, Krystal, Kat, and Janna all took their time packing as the rest of the class burst into the halls. As the door closed behind Frankie Merz, Jennifer stood up, announcing to the room. "Becky went to the doctor with her aunt this morning."

"What's wrong?" was your automatic response.

Jennifer approached your desk with a huge grin on her face. "She was throwing up this morning."

Janna, who was gathering her things, snorted. "That's right, Teach... you knocked her up."

Exultation exploded in you as a dumb grin spread on your face. "She is."

Unlocking her phone, she showed you Rebecca's latest message.

9:57 am Becky: It's official; I'm pregnant. My aunt is freaking out.

From the back of the room, Janna exclaims, "Girl, you shouldn't be envious; Beckie's going to swell up like a balloon."

Glancing back at the girls. You see Katenya's cheeks color as she abruptly turns away, murmuring something in Ukrainian.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Jennifer playfully clapped back.

Putting her hand on her hip, the Latina looked at her friend. "Don't go there, Jen; my sisters popped out 11 brats in 5 years." Putting her back on her shoulder, she continued, "That's the last thing I need." Janna's eyes shifted to you, or more accurately, your pants. "No matter how..."

Janna then pointedly looks away, fleeing the classroom.

"I give it three weeks tops." Jennifer observed after Janna left.

Krystal, who was in her seat, nodded in agreement. "Three weeks sounds about right."

"About right for what?" you ask, confused.

Jennifer spins around, planting her skirt-covered ass on one of the front-row desks. Leaning back, she spread her legs, purring dramatically. "Why, before she is spreading her legs like the rest of us sluts for a hot cum injection deep in her unprotected cunt?" "

She then flipped up her skirt, flashing the smooth lips of her hairless quim before hopping off the desk with a throaty laugh.

"Jennifer..." you grate out. "Be serious..."

Flashing her trademark smirk, she leans against your desk. "But I am being serious, Daddy... Janna is as big a slut as the rest of us." Pushing off her desk, Jennifer turns, walking back to her desk. Stopping, she bends at the waist, letting her skirt rise dangerously high while getting her things.

Against your will your eyes are glued to her ass as the skirt inches up. She then pops up suddenly, straightening, and looks at you over her shoulder. "She's just hung up on her sisters, aunts, and mother." With that, Jennifer and Katenya breeze from the room.

"Jen's right, you know, Uncle," Krystal observes, getting up.

Sitting dumbly, you watch your niece gather her stuff and prance over to you. Rising onto her toes, she kisses your cheek, whispering. "She wants your cock bad, Uncle."

Turning, your niece waves and leaves you alone in the classroom. You were in a fog as you locked up your classroom and went to eat lunch. Eating a salad, your mind bubbled as fantasy was truly turning into reality.

Rebecca's belly was swelling with your child. You were damned, you admit, but your mouth watered at the thought of watching her belly expand day by day. Seeing the other girls' whispers go from "Is Becky getting fat?" to "The bitch got knocked up; what a slut."

Walking back to your classroom, you found yourself wanting to thrust out your chest and bellow a war cry. "Jesus, Jason, get yourself under control," you silently chide yourself.

The fifth period started with you wanting to smack yourself when you saw Dallas's collarless throat. You were supposed to take her Saturday after you'd gotten back. Of course on the other side of the room was Clara, whom you'd prevented from giving up her cherry to her lying ex-boyfriend. Pointedly, she refused to meet your gaze.

"Hmmm, was she regretting what happened afterwards?" you think to yourself. Disciplining yourself, you manage to make it through class without embarrassing yourself.

Beep, beep, beep chimed the bell ending 5th period.

"Miss Cabera, a moment please," you call out as the students left the classroom.

Gathering her books, Dallas approached your desk. "Yes, Mr. Clarkson," she carefully replied.

Seeing no one nearby, you say. "We were supposed to get your collar on Saturday, and I forgot."

Dallas purses her lips, murmuring. "It's okay, Daddy."

"No, it's not," you tell the teen. Leaning forward, you quickly whisper, "My classroom right after school."

Dallas gives you a quick nod before heading to her 6th period.

As the bell rang, you sat down and began taking roll. As you called the roll, your students gave off a weird energy. Or more accurately the three football players who were in your class.

Finishing the roll, you launched into your lesson while trying to ignore Bailey and her pigtails. Mr. Patrick and his two friends kept whispering to each other as you lectured. After about 10 minutes of it, you'd finally had enough of it.

Stopping your lecture, you sternly asked. "Mr. Patrick, once again, is there anything you wish to share with the class?"

George and his two friends stopped talking and looked at you. "It's nutting teach, nutting at all."

"Really," you snorted, disbelief dripping from you. "Your nothing has been going on for 10 minutes. Now kindly pay attention or you can go talk to the dean."

After your last clash you were halfway expecting him to say something, and he didn't disappoint.

"Fuck this shit, and fuck you old man," the teen suddenly bellowed as he stood up. Thumping his chest, he boasted, "Who the fuck do you think you are, old man? I'm a player, and we own this school."

"Really... you own the school," you scorn. "If this is the discipline you have shown in class, no wonder you're losing on the field."

The teen's face went beet red as he stalked up to you. "Say that to my face, old man, and see what happens."

One of George's friends rushes up, grabbing his shoulder. "Dude, don't."

Unafraid you meet the teens furious gaze. Raising your hand, you point at the door, saying. "You, young man, are not worth my time."

George Patrick rears back as if you slapped him. "Wha the fuck did you say?"

"Get your ass to the dean," you order, your tone brooking no dissent.

George's friend whispered, "George, let's go; it ain't worth it, man."

For a moment you thought the kid would be dumb and swing on you. Instead he shook off his friend's hold, snarling, "this ain't over, old man."

Storming back to his desk, he proceeded to turn it over and grab his books. Reaching the door, he then proceeded to punch it.

"FFFFFFFFuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkkk..." he howled.

Shaking your head, you watch as George Patrick cradled his now obviously broken hand to his chest.

You looked at his stunned friend, saying, "You better get him to the nurse."

A few minutes later one of the school cops, Rafael Dominguez, came by your classroom. Following him into the hallway. You quickly swear out your statement about what happened.

"Man, teach, you need to start pacing yourself or you are going to end up in the hospital." He joked while shaking his head.

"Again, you mean," you reply, stunning the man. You quickly give him the sanitized version of your interaction with the frat members.

"Wow," he replied. "I don't know if you're dumb or the luckiest S.O.B. on the planet."

Quickly, he finished up your statement before heading back to the administration.

"Take better care of yourself, your man," he called out as he walked off.

Walking back into the classroom, you announced yourself. "All right class, I believe we were currently talking about New York's stance on independence."