Part Twenty-Five: Late Work Policy

"Yikes! What happened to your car, Mr. Canon?" Cassie ran her finger along the fresh stripe down the side of my vehicle.

"A little present from Abbie and Taylor."

"Oh yeah? I thought you guys weren't talking, after the whole arresting them and getting them kicked out of school thing."

I shivered involuntarily, though not from the insinuation. At this early hour it was still pretty chilly out, and my garage didn't have much by way of insulation. "I went over yesterday to talk to them about the whole thing. Set things straight and all."

"Mm. Looks like it didn't go over too well."

"Seemed to go well enough with Abbie. Not so much Taylor."

Cassie pivoted to face me. "Wanna talk about it?"

I sighed. "I don't imagine there's anything I can say to you that would conceivably prevent you from telling me your thoughts on the matter." Lord knew everyone else was weighing in.

"I don't always say everything on my mind," she grumbled, stung. Damn. I hadn't meant to be rude about it. "I just... I dunno. I need to be completely honest with you. To tell you the complete and total truth. I think maybe it's a Serenex thing? But I don't know. I feel like I can say anything to you. I don't mean to be a nuisance, though."

I winced. The last thing I needed on my bruised conscience was picking on Cassie, the sex slave equivalent of kicking a crippled dog. Grimacing at the cold concrete on my bare feet, I followed her into the grudge and pulled her into a hug. "I didn't mean to say it like that. You're fine, sweetie. OK? I've been getting a lot of unsolicited advice coming my way a lot lately is all."

She hugged back, sighing a little too audibly into my chest before I stepped back and let her go. I'd already woken up with my dick in her hands not twenty minutes ago; I wasn't trying to reel her back in. "So go on. If you have thoughts, let them out. I can take it."

"I wasn't gonna try to tell you how to feel. See, sometimes I try to imagine what this all must be like for you. It's heckin' strange for all of us. Durr, right. Having sex with my next door neighbor, a teacher, knowing he's turned my mom into a hashtag free-use slut, sharing him with a half dozen girls... it's kinda wild. But I bet it's gotta be a lot for you, too, right?"

"It can be." Not that I was looking for sympathy.

"Yeah. I mean, I know you like us, and you're a nice teacher and you don't want to hurt any of us kids. Even though I know you try not to play favorites though, it's bound to happen. Isn't it? I guess I don't really know what it is you like about her, though. Like, I know Taylor is crazy hot, perfect tits, perfect ass, perfect legs, super pretty. In a mean way. But I don't know if that's all she is, I guess I'm saying. To you."

"Everybody is more than just their body, Cassie."

"No, I know." She snorted. "No offense, that's something grown-ups say to middle school kids. I think I'm mature enough now to get that sometimes sex is only sex. A man can dip his shwing-shwong in a woman's howdy hole and neither of them might care about each other beyond cocks and cunts. Like, I've been reaching out to porn stars on twitter to ask them stuff, and this one said that it's a double-edged sword, having a porno bod, because some people look at you and only see tatas and booties, but at the same time, it could be nice at times because you don't always want to deal with people and all their flaws and people-ness when all you really want is good sex with a hot partner. Which I totally related to, kind of. My ex-boyfriend - he went to a different school, so you probably wouldn't know him - was really clingy and cheesy, and sometimes it was soooo sweet, but now that I've been with you and see what it's like to be with a man who just wants to use me like a cum sponge (pardon my French), I can also see how it's awesome to just have great sex with a well-hung dude and then go home and not have to worry if they miss you. We'll do it again soon, so it's kinda cool to just pleasure you. It's fun, and it feels amazing. But it's nerve ending feels, not heart feels."

She took a breath at last. "So yeah, I guess that was just what I wondered with Taylor, like which kind of feels you have."

I blinked. It was early in the day to be bombarded with that many words. "You've been talking to porn stars on twitter? What on earth for?"

"Not tons of them or anything, but I've gotten a few to reply. Lots of dudes pretending to slide into their DMs and all, so they're pretty hard to reach. And I just have thoughts and questions, and I figured as a booty call and a daughter of a sex slave, porn stars would get it better than most people. But you didn't answer the question."

I shook my head. Best not to pursue every line of thought in that girl's head. "Sorry, what question was that?"

"What's Taylor to you? Do you, like, care about her? Or do you just really like fucking her?"

"What difference does it make? I'm still responsible for her, regardless of how I feel."

"Sure, but... 'responsible' is a teacher thing, not a lover thing. Right? So if you're just her teacher and her occasional sex partner and that's it, then yeah. That's it. So you just have to figure out how many chances somebody gets before their problems aren't yours any more. But if you actually care about her, then you gotta figure out how to make it right."

I pulled her in for another hug, planting a kiss on her forehead. "See? This is why I'm lucky to have you."

"Yeah, and the butt slut thing," she answered with a coy giggle, but I could tell the compliment landed.

"That doesn't hurt. Now run on home. It's finals week, so I want you focused on that this week. I'll be busy, too, so don't be surprised if you don't hear from me until Friday."

"Doesn't school end Thursday?"

"For you guys, yeah, but I have grading to do Thursday night, and then teachers are in Friday to close everything down for the summer."

"Oh. Well, if you're getting stressed and need a quick ass-fuck to blow off some steam, you know where to find me." She pivoted, hastily tugged down her pajama bottoms and the underwear beneath, then rubbed her bare ass against the front of my robe for a moment before recomposing herself.

"Hang in there, Mr. Canon. It's almost over."


The final Monday of the school year. The air in the halls and classrooms of GHS crackled with unspoken potential. This time next week, the annual miracle that was summer break would be here. This time next week, people would be embarking on family vacations, starting new jobs, spending lazy days fishing at Bear Lake, or simply sleeping in and taking it easy.

But to lay one's hand on the treasure hoard, first, one had to slay the dragon.

Four days. Monday and Tuesday were split between exam preparations, final projects and presentations, and all those bureaucratic tasks necessary to close things out. Thanks to the foresight and leadership of Amy, our department even had a system in place for the inevitable mass drop-offs of past-due books Tuesday afternoon when the students were given time for locker clean-out. We were primed for smooth sailing this time out. On the last two days periods were extended to double length, with the exams for periods 1-3 on Wednesday, 5-7 Friday.

(Period 4 was lunch, a source of endless confusion to new students as the cafeteria's three lunch shifts meant that for a given student's schedule, period 4 might come after period 3 or 5, or in the middle of 5. It was a fine transition for students coming out of middle school, to remind them that life only got messier as it proceeded.)

Since my seventh period was my prep, I'd end the academic year a couple hours before the rest of the building. Until then, though, it was going to be hectic. Custodial was out in force, cracking down on students discarding the detritus of their lockers wherever it fell. The allure of impending freedom made paying attention all the more difficult, while the stakes of final exams simultaneously meant it was more necessary than ever. The useless assholes down at state DoE did us an extra favor this year by distributing standardized test scores this week, prompting god alone knew how many panic attacks and crises of faith amongst students and staff alike. My students' scores happened to be up three points from last year, a statistic which was as relevant to my pedagogy as it was useful to me in the twilight of the school year.

After Friday's triumphant return in the cafeteria, I decided to keep it small and private that Monday. I invited Candy and Isa to join me in my room for lunch. They accepted, naturally. I wasn't sure they could refuse if they wanted to.

"So how's it feel to be back?" Candy asked as we settled in. Like many teachers, she'd gone extra casual for this week, some beat-up jeans and a GHS football t-shirt. Horen was ever a stickler for dress codes, but when we had our hands full filing away hundreds of pounds of textbooks and materials, she turned a blind eye to it these final days. Candy still looked very pretty in it, plain or no. She couldn't help it. Sometimes I could hardly believe I had so much pussy thrown my way that I was neglecting such an attractive woman.

I unpacked my lunch from my briefcase. "It feels a lot better than sitting at home waiting for a squad car to come pick me up, I'll say that much."

"Not something you'd have to worry about if you made better choices," muttered Isa peevishly. "Ahem. Master."

"Right, because if you say 'master' at the end, it's automatically respectful," teased her girlfriend.

I wasn't offended, though. The only reason I kept having her use the term was because she seemed to get off on it. I'd hardly noticed when she'd ditched "sir" for "master" when we were alone. "I did miss it though, honestly. It's the best and the hardest time of year, you know? Especially teaching seniors. Wild to think that in a few days' time, as far as the world is concerned, they're as much adults as any of us."

"Except when it comes to buying alcohol," Isa pointed out as she poured her dressing onto her salad. When she saw the two of us eyeing her, she made a face. "What?"

"No, you're right, mama. That's exactly what he was talking about. Buying alcohol." Candy shook her head, snickering as she took a bite of her tuna salad sandwich.

"I'm just saying-"

"I know, I know. Trust me, I appreciate better than most people that legal adulthood and actual maturity are two very different animals. And yeah, I know if I 'made better choices,' yadda yadda, so spare me."

Isa shot me a snide look, but didn't resort to a verbal retort. Candy made small-talk about whether I'd been keeping up during my suspension, her irritation that she'd gotten a day behind herself, her anxiousness that her new exam was going to be too long for students to finish in time. It was the most normal camaraderie the two of us had shared since before I'd dosed her in that coffee shop last month. It reminded me that once upon a time I'd had a little crush on her, before I waited too long and Isa scooped her up.

Still, it was the abnormal nature of our situation that had caused me to call them here today in the first place, and when the conversation trailed off, I asked my question.

"Are you two doing OK?" I asked. Recognizing the ambiguity of my sudden pivot, I elaborated. "With our situation. Between you and me."

The two shared a long look, and there was a lot being communicated in their faces that wasn't readily apparent to me. They spoke in elevated eyebrows, tilted heads and twists of their lips that emitted no sound, their own intimate language. It was Candy who finally answered me. "We're holding up OK. Why do you ask?"

"Because a few weeks ago the two of you were so malcontent over my behavior that you tried to chop my nuts off. Figuratively speaking. I've been at this long enough now to know that things run a lot smoother when the other participants are happy. If you're still unhappy, I want to hear about it. After everything that went down last week, I'm sick to death of forcing miserable people to share my space, much less my... well."

Again, the looks. The two practically had a sign language. "So what is it you want? Our blessing to keep fucking us?" Isa asked. "Not sure how much it would mean, considering."

"No. I know you don't approve. So be it. I'm way past caring what you think about me and the girls. We're doing what we're doing, regardless of your opinions. But I'm asking about you two. What Abbie and Taylor did to you... it's pretty screwed up, I have to say."

"You got that right, master," answered Isa, the last word dripping disdain.

"So I ask again. Are you two OK?"

Candy's eyes flickered between the two of us. "Yeah, it's... weird. It's definitely weird. I... should I start, mama? Unless you wanna answer first."

This time the response came in words, albeit mumbled. "Go on, baby."

Candy set down the last bit of her sandwich, folding her hands together on the desktop and looking at me earnestly. "So, since there's no point in being coy, part of it has been really amazing. Our sex life has been absolutely next level. For me, at least. And even if it's this weird vicarious humiliation fetish that you, or the Sterns or whoever, put in my head, it's still hot. We didn't have this much sex when we first hooked up, and now..."

"I think he gets the picture."

"I don't actually. Not meaning to be nosy, but you're saying you two have been getting along better?"

"I think so?" Candy looked to Isa.

"Yeah. I guess so. Sexually, at least."

We left that caveat aside for the time being as the social studies teacher continued. "Still, even if we're having fun, I do worry sometimes. It can't be healthy, can it?"

"What can't be healthy? Sex?"

"No, I mean... well, the way we have sex now. It's not just hands and tongues any more. Now there's this psychological aspect to it, and I... I dunno."

"Maybe walk me through it a little, because I'm not sure I get it. What's happening that you're afraid is unhealthy? Like, give me a for instance."

Isa looked plainly mortified, but Candy was inclined to treat this discussion as some plan of mine, helpfully aiding it unfold. "All right, so... Saturday night, I think it was. Isa had just gotten home from the gym, and-"

"That was Friday."

"Friday then, whatever. So we hadn't talked since the morning, and I asked her how her day was while she was getting into the shower. Basic chitchat stuff. Except now, part of her day is what she's done to keep you out of hot water, right?"

"It is?" I wasn't aware there was on-going labor involved. It had always been on-call, so far as I knew.

Isa replied. "Of course there is. Patrolling outside your room in the afternoons so if you and the girls are getting frisky, I can deflect attention. I have a bug in Horen's office now, so I have to go through and make sure she hasn't discovered something we don't want her to know. That's easily an hour a day right there. Checking in at the station, seeing if there's any fresh gossip about cases involving the school without looking too obvious about it. All sorts of stuff. It's my top priority."

"Damn. Well... thanks, I guess."

"Sure." She scowled at her fork, skewering a cherry tomato with spite.

Candy went on, "Right, so whenever she gets to that part of her day, she gets... I mean, you know how she gets."

"Indulge me. How does she get?"

"Oh. Well... you want to explain it, mama?" Isa shook her head furiously, eyes low. "She's acting shy about it, but at home, it's... no. She'll just sort of get overwhelmed, I guess is a good word for it. Can't keep her hands off herself, can't keep her clothes on, gets... I don't know. Agreeable, you could call it. Wants me to tell her what to do. To use her, I guess."

It certainly sounded like my own experiences with Isa. "That right?"

"I get off on being a submissive little bitch," mumbled Isa. "I can't help myself."

"So yeah. And it's weird, yeah, but it's so hot watching her break down like that. It turns me on like crazy whenever you or one of your fantasy sluts abuses Isa. I can't help myself."

"So you've said. Both of you." I rubbed my forehead, considering. "So it sounds like the sex is fun, but like you said, probably not healthy."

"I guess not. But hey, it's your plan. I'm just doing my part."

"Candy, this was never my plan. This was Abbie and Taylor's plan. And I think it's about time we stop letting them call the shots."

Isa looked up, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I think we need to see about whether or not I can fix you. Officially, really fix you. We've had our fun and all, but the last thing I want is to sit back and relax while Isa's on her way to a nervous breakdown or something."

"You seem to have been fine with it so far, master." Like that, though, what her lover had mentioned played out in real time. It all happened so fast. The widening of her eyes as the wave of lust built, then washed her down to her knees, hands rubbing helplessly at her crotch and her breasts.

"Knock that off, Isa. The door's unlocked, for god's sake."

She winced, stung by the rebuke from her master as much as the brief dereliction of her duty, then hastily returned to her desk, hands folded demurely in her lap. "I'm sorry, master. It won't happen again."

I patted her arm reassuringly, though she winced at that, too. "Anyway, you were right. I have gotten awfully comfortable with too many unpleasant situations. I'm trying to get better about it. After all, somebody gave me some good advice about how letting those girls call the shots might have led to a few thrills, but it's probably a bad way to run my life."

She smiled thinly at that.

"So the way I see it, if we broke things with Serenex, it's going to take Serenex to fix things. Now I think I have enough left to give the two of you another dose. If, that is, you're interested in trying. Let me be clear: this is not my 'plan,' Candy. This is a suggestion, and you're both free to refuse if you don't trust me. I can't blame you, after all that's happened."

"Dose us, and then what?" pressed my colleague curiously.

"And then... you tell me. I know we all had our fears about contradictory commands. We could test that, see if there's anything to be afraid of. Or we could look for a work-around. Maybe I can't stop Isa from feeling like 'a submissive little bitch,' but... I don't know. Something so you aren't being spun around. Untie your pleasure from your anger. I'm open to suggestions."

The two shared another eye-conversation. I cut it short, though, this time. We only had minutes before lunch ended and students returned. "You don't have to decide anything now. Talk it over, think it over, and when you've decided, you know where to find me. It's a standing offer, too. No rush. I think there's been more than enough pain and aggravation in all this mess, some of which I can't pawn off on the Sterns. They may not have any remorse over it, but me, I'm cleaning house. I mean to enjoy myself, and if I have my druthers, I'd like for that to extend to the rest of our little after-school program. I want everyone to be happy, and to get along with each other to the extent we need to."

"Does that include the Sterns?" asked Isa.

"Did he just say 'druthers?'" asked Candy.

I stood, wadding up my trash and snapping shut my briefcase. "Just let me know."


"You look pretty today." It had taken almost an hour since I'd noticed for the two of us to be alone where I could say it. The final passing period of the day filled the halls with noise, but in my classroom, Tabitha and I enjoyed relative peace and quiet. "I should tell you more often." & u=117108

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