Have Tabatha show you the way

Mathilda Crütchnoober continues to struggle to free herself from the chair. Apparently the most recent biscuit extended her girth just enough to hold her in place. Xabar dreads being asked to assist her. He suspects the only ways she can get out of the chair will be by going on a fast, dismantling the furniture, or greasing up her sides with butter. Rather than witness or participate in any of those, he offers another solution.

“I’m sure you have things to attend to — and small children to eat. I wouldn’t mind having Tabatha show me the way.”

The headmistress responds. “You are a sage man, Flaccid. It is no small feat to tend to these children, but one does what one must. I wish I could share your optimism that I could be successful in showing Tabatha the way.”

She resumes her struggle against the creaking chair. Xabar waves his hands to get her attention and points to the bell on the desk, then to himself, and finally toward the door. Crütchnoober blessedly discerns his meaning and nods her assent to the plan.

She continues her fruitless struggle as Xabar rings the bell. Moments later, the door opens, and Tabatha re-enters the office. “You rang, Auntie?” she says, in the same bored, flat voice as before.

The headmistress’ face is red and wet with the sweat of her exertion. Her grunts sound as if she has the worst case of constipation in history and is in the process of passing a boulder-sized turd.

“Not again,” groans Tabatha. “Just a minute, while I fetch the tool box.”

She turns to leave, but Xabar stops her and says, “Actually, she wants you to show me to my room.”

Tabatha looks relieved. “Thank goodness. The last time this happened, it took half a day to get her out. Let’s go before she changes her mind.”

“It has been wonderful getting to know you, Professor Willowby,” says the headmistress. “Tabatha, once you have shown the professor to his room, would you please fetch the carpenter and tell him that something is wrong with my chair again?”

“The carpenter should be knighted for his engineering accomplishments,” observes Xabar. This elicits a surprised laugh from Tabatha, who covers up her reaction by hastily leading him from the office.

Once they have retreated to the hallway, Tabatha laughs freely. She turns to Xabar and says, “You are not what I expected at all when I heard we were getting a man to teach. I figured Auntie would have only agreed to a eunuch or someone who only had eyes for boys.” She studies Xabar carefully. “And I certainly didn’t expect anyone quite so young. Just how old are you, anyway?”

“It’s not the age of the tree, but the length and hardness of its wood that matters,” he responds, silently cursing his inability to stop the words from flying from his mouth.

“Indeed?” she says, continuing to study him. “There’s a lot more to you than I expected. And perhaps a lot more than Auntie thinks that she got.”

Xabar eyes her warily. She sees his expression and grins. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t say a word. It’s not like she could hear me, anyway. Just be careful. The rest of the staff aren’t nearly as deaf — or thickheaded — as she is. If you keep talking the way you do, your tenure as a professor will be short. But not nearly as short as your pecker will be after my aunt cuts it off.”

Xabar places a protective hand over his crotch as he follows Tabatha to the stairway. He sees the students bustling about as they prepare for their first class of the day. Much to his dismay, there aren’t nearly as many in a half-dressed state as he saw earlier.

“Your room is at the end of the west wing,” she says as they arrive on the second floor. “Most of the other instructors reside at the Academy and are distributed throughout the students’ residential halls. Your room is strictly off limits to the students, of course.” She looks at Xabar thoughtfully as she says this. “And it goes without saying that you’re not supposed to go into any of the students’ rooms, but I’m sure the thought never occurred to you.”

Xabar hears her but is too distracted to answer. As she leads him down the hallway toward his room, he can’t help but glance into the room of every open door that he passes. Each one has one or two lovely young ladies inside, looking fresh, energetic, and desirable. Tabatha sees the expression in his eyes and says, “Yeah, there won’t be any issues at all.” The rolling of her eyes is missed by Xabar.

At last, they arrive at the end of the hallway. “This is your room,” she says, motioning toward the door. “I’m not sure if Auntie told you, but you don’t have a private bath. There are two in this hall, and the one across the hall is for your use. The students have been told that they need to announce themselves before going in, and, of course you’ll want to do the same.” She adds in a sarcastic voice, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to accidentally walk in on a student while she is half-dressed.”

Xabar responds, “Of course not… It’s much better to catch them when they are bare-ass naked.” Again, he winces, and bites his lip.

“What is up with you?” Tabatha asks. “I get it that you’re not the undersexed twat my Aunt was hoping to get, but you seem to be asking to get in trouble.”

“I’m suffering from a bit of a handicap at the moment,” he responds, truthfully. “You’re not exactly catching me at my best.”

She makes a point of looking him over, making Xabar self-conscious about his disheveled appearance. “That seems to be the truest thing you have said. Perhaps you will want to take a few minutes to freshen up.”