Theory vs Application

Another day of teaching comes to a close, but Mercedes and Annette are staying behind at your request. The two of them look terribly worried, as though being kept after class means certain trouble. In truth, it’s nothing that bad, but you still get the feeling they won’t like the outcome.

“Hello girls,” you begin. “I wanted to talk a bit about your grades today. Do you have time for a brief conversation?”

The two breathe enormous sighs of relief. “Ah, so that’s what this is about,” Mercedes says. “You just wanted to congratulate us on our grades. We both graduated with highest honors from the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery, so it makes sense that you’d be impressed.”

You continue, “Yes, well, your grasp of magical theory is certainly excellent. However…” The gloom immediately returns to their faces. “…I’m not entirely sure about your application of those theories. During training, you seem to perform your spellcasting simply for the sake of casting the spell, rather than for the purpose of defending yourself or incapacitating your foe.”

“But Professor!” Annette objects. “Who wants to cast spells just to ‘vanquish our foes’ or whatever? There are way more interesting ways to use magic in order to help people! Like how Mercy uses magic to bake her sweet treats! Besides, Fodlan is peaceful nowadays. Isn’t that why you’re teaching here? Because you couldn’t make any money as a mercenary?” Ugh. She hit you right in the finances.

You clear your throat. “Be that as it may, my job is to prepare you to become an officer in your homeland’s military. It reflects poorly on me if you can’t even defend yourself. There’s room for improvement by the end of the year, but I’m going to have to drop your grades to a B for now.”

Their jaws practically hit the floor. They look at each other for a few seconds, awestruck, before nodding and regaining their composure. Mercedes rapidly unbuttons almost her entire blouse, then leans ninety degrees over your desk. She’s giving you a perfect downblouse view while letting her long, blonde hair fall over one shoulder and rest on your desk. And there is a lot of breast down that blouse. You gulp.

Mercedes speaks softly. “Professor, aren’t you stressed from all the teaching you do? You’re such a good educator, but it must take a toll on you to put in so much effort.”

Suddenly, you feel hands on your shoulders, giving you a massage that quickly makes you melt into your chair. “She’s right, you should relax once in a while. Not that I’m one to talk,” says Annette, her voice suddenly behind you.

“Come on, let us walk you back to your room, Professor,” Mercedes proposes. “It’s the least we can do after you’ve been kind enough to critique our academics. Your feedback is very valuable.”

Before you know it, you’re walking back to your room with one arm nestled between Mercy’s soft breasts, and the other hand fastened to Annette’s tight ass. These two have always been so detached from the debauchery around the school, so you hardly expected this kind of strategy from them. But you won’t be bought off with a little skinship. “Th-This ends once we reach my room, understood? If you want your grades to improve, you’ll have to show some improvement during training.” you speak sternly.

“Yes, Professor,” they agree.