The four Sophomore girls walked up the stairs to the 4th floor together, Abbi proud to be a part of a cool clique for the first time in her life. Their chatter was light, inconsequential, but there was an undercurrent of excitement under it all. First period had been unusual for everyone and heading into their rooms for private tutoring sessions had them all acting giddier than any day of real college ever had before.

Abbi could almost hear their thoughts resonating under the mindless small talk. Ariel was positively buzzing with the idea of getting bent over and plowed, Blair was licking her lips at the wondered of 69-ing with a friendly stranger, and Kamilla seemed determined to have her ass punished at least as hard as Abbi had. Imagining her new friends’ anticipatory fantasies was more exciting than engaging in her own.

A small moment of self-reflection revealed that she wanted to go into her room with the same absence of expectation as she had the first half of the day.

The main hallway of the 4th floor was the same seamless private college façade as the one below. Instead of just one plaque identifying the classroom, there were a cluster outside each corridor facing door, four nameplates engraved with the students’ names.

They stopped in front of the door displaying the Sophomore girls’ names. Blair and Ariel reached for the door at the same time and took turns allowing the other by for a couple of comical beats. Kamilla pushed by them both and took the lead, swinging the door open wide for them all.

This smaller offshoot hallway had four more doors. Ariel went straight for hers and went inside. Blair hesitated for another moment before disappearing herself. Kamilla and Abbi walked in astride each other, arriving at the doors to rooms that stood opposite each other.

“Well, here we are,” Abbi announced.

“Yep,” Kamilla winked. She gave her another squeeze of Abbi’s hand, a quick peck on her cheek, and opened the door for her. “Have fun, love,” she added, shoving Abbi into her room.

The door shut behind Abbi, leaving her alone but pleasantly surprised.

Her private tutoring room was like the cartoon version of a fantasy of an anime obsessed schoolgirl, which was great, because that’s what she was.

Typical bedroom stuff was there, a white four-poster bed with a full-size mattress in the middle of the far wall, a small white nightstand and lamp, a second-hand red lounge chair in the corner, a white chest of drawers, a simple white IKEA desk and matching desk chair on the other wall, and a pair of mirrored sliding doors hiding a closet in between.

What wasn’t ‘ordinary’ was the anime artwork festooning the walls. There were posters and pictures tacked up above the desk and on closet wall: Attack on Titan, Sailor Moon, Macross, RWBY, Spirited Away, and on and on. The desk had a second, super fancy pink and white Hello Kitty gaming chair in front of it, and the comforter was a painfully pink and had a hundred crazy-eyed unicorns farting rainbows all over it. Flippin’ sweet!

On her bedroom wall were two massive hand painted murals: one of Major Kusanagi from Ghost in the Shell, in that sexy classic manga cover kneeling pose that showed off her cyborg butt and a bunch of tubes and wires coming out of her back was on one side of the bed. On the other side was of Matoi and Mako, BFFs from Kill la Kill. Most days Abbi felt like Mako (especially today wearing the excellent Academy uniform for the first time), an enthusiastic underachiever, but basking in the glow of a larger-than-life Matoi, she knew that she too would give her lifeblood to have the power of that glorious kamui.

Minutes passed, Abbi standing a few steps into the room so dumbfounded that she didn’t know she was no longer alone until there was a soft “ahem” behind her, followed by a friendly hand on her shoulder.

“Miss Abbi?”

She turned to face the interloper and found herself looking into the friendly round face of Mr. Cleveland, the Homeroom assistant. He was a head taller than Abbi, in his white button-down shirtsleeves, gray slacks, and black loafers, and shared that same commanding air of confidence of every staff member she had met so far. He also had Captain Picard’s hairdo, wore it just as well, and like that TV hero/father figure from her childhood, Mr. Cleveland was younger than he appeared from afar.

“Mr. Cleveland!”

“Yes,” he smiled. “You have a good memory.”

“Thanks!”

They stared at each other for a moment longer than her comfort threshold. She didn’t get the sense that he was scoping her out like she did meeting most men for the first time, just that he was waiting patiently for the student to appear and be ready.

“I uh, how, uh, what are we supposed to do, I mean, to get started?”

Ugh, she wondered. I’m so goofy!

“Well, Ms. Ford has issued homework to her class. It is a Kama Sutra worksheet. I’m to help you complete it.” He held up an Academy appropriate red Pee-Chee folder.

“Oh, I thought she was kidding about homework.”

“Oh no, Ms. Ford never jokes or kids around, especially about homework.”

Abbi instinctively reached both hands back to comfort her still sore bottom.

“I get that, now.”

“And once you are finished with that,” he continued. “I have a special treat just for you.”

“Oh, really? That’s so nice!”

“I spoke with Ms. Ford at lunch, and she said that you had kind of a rough morning.”

“Yeah, I could barely sit on the bench while I ate.”

“Well, I thought I could make it all better and give you a massage,” Mr. Cleveland offered. “If you will permit me, of course.”

“Like, here, on the bed?” That odd sense of line-crossing intimacy returned with a vengeance. Getting a massage from this handsome stranger would be great and also deeply weird.

Abbi decided she was here for it, on-board for whatever happened. Didn’t stop whatever did end up happening from being embarrassing, though.

“Have you had a chance to check out the closet? You should look.”

Abbi crossed the room while Mr. Cleveland went over to the desk. Instead of one door hiding the other, both slid away into wall recesses revealing another room the same size as her fantasy bedroom.

This room was mostly bare except for a forward-facing professional massage chair. The walls were two-toned, crimson on top and cream underneath, and the floor was some kind of firm black padding instead of the plush cream carpet of the main room. There was a coatrack mounted on the far wall with an assortment of spanking instruments hanging from the hooks (of course!). The only other feature of the room was what appeared to be one of those fancy red rolling tool cabinets in the corner, only this had no drawers.

Oh boy, Abbi wondered. Here we go!

Looking at this room of promised sexual torment, Abbi noticed that there were no windows, and the ceiling was that weird unfinished look that you would see in a fancy café: vents and pipes and electrical conduits, simple lamps with bare wire bulbs, all of it painted black. She also noticed a few long lengths of chain anchored to sturdy beams, just about the right height to have her hands shackled above her. Chilling and thrilling.

Mr. Cleveland broke her reverie.

“One thing we need to do before we begin, though,” he warned.

“Yes, Mr. Cleveland?”

“I need to make sure that you are in your proper uniform.”

“I am. I like, changed before lunch.”

“I believe you, but I still need to check.”

Abbi happily spun around.

“Miss Abbi, let me be clear,” he warned. “I need to see your underwear. Please lift your skirt and show me both sides.”

“Uh,” Abbi blushed furiously. How degrading! She realized nearly too late just how close she was to her third punishment of the day.

“Yes, sir, is how you can most respectfully answer, along with your compliance.”

“Uh, yes sir.”

Abbi faced him, reticent, and raised the front of her skirt but unwilling to look him in the eyes, disinclined to babble herself further into danger.

“Very nice,” he observed. “Now your backside.”

She turned and lifted her skirt again, accidentally catching his eye in the freestanding mirror. Mortifying!

“If you don’t mind me saying Miss Abbi,” he stated, as if he was offering a pleasant weather or light traffic report, “that you have a very pretty little tushy made all the better from your teacher’s attention.”

“Thank you?” Abbi stammered. She dropped her skirt to hide her shame.

“Now that unpleasantness is out of the way, shall we take care of this homework?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do want a pillow for your sore bottom?”

“I think I’ll be ok, Mr. Cleveland, thank you.” Thankfully, things had cooled off back there considerably.

Abbi sat in the Hello Kitty gaming chair and instantly felt like a princess in her castle. The knight had already appeared, but instead of saving her and spiriting her away, he was there to make her private chambers even more magical.

Mr. Cleveland opened the folder and spread two worksheets out on the desk. Abbi noticed that there was already a small stack of books there on the Kama Sutra and sexual health, but no computer or tablet for internet research. Even knowing the Academy’s prohibition on connected devices, the absence of a computer was still a little off-putting.

Abbi wondered two things as she settled in for some desk work:

Wow, my mood is swinging around like a carnival ride today.

Followed by:

Massage equals happy ending…this man is gonna take me to the bone-zone very soon!

The homework was a multiple-choice quiz of sex positions, complete with explicit diagrams. They went from traditional to advanced to acrobatic.

Abbi remembered something Blair had said in 1st period and asked, inspired:

“What are the people doing in these drawings, Mr. Cleveland?”

“Oh, Ms. Ford didn’t tell you?”

“The first one looks like a mommy and daddy making a baby, but the rest of these look like they’re wrestling each other. I mean, look at this one.”

She pointed to one that required both partners to be trained in expert gymnastics to achieve.

“It looks like they’re mad at each other.”

Mr. Cleveland just chuckled.

“Well, young miss,” Mr. Cleveland said, using his best ‘teacher explaining something’ voice. “The positions that are on the homework are different ways people can do to have more fun while having sex.”

“Oh. I guess I get it.” Abbi claimed, using her best ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’ voice.

Abbi had a good time sharing the unique space with Mr. Cleveland as they consulted the books to find the answers. Looking at all the anatomical and biological stuff with this man who was twice her age and pretending to be her tutor generated a complex and confusing wave of emotions. She found playing ignorant was a fun diversion from the growing storm, and he was game for informing her whenever she gave him a quizzical look.

Above all that, taking precedent over everything brewing inside her, was his physical presence. He was a Man, in much the same way Ms. Ford and Nurse Polk were Women, intimidating in the most arousing way. The scent of his good soap and clean clothes was ever present, but she rarely looked directly at him, and never, ever cast her eyes toward the bed or bondage closet.

“Ok, young miss,” Mr. Cleveland encouraged. “One question left. Seems like a hard one.”

Abbi bit her lip, less about the difficulty of the last question and more about the potential of a hard cock tenting his trousers. Every other thing they had said to each other so far had been bursting with double meaning.

“Um, I’m not sure this one is even possible. I mean, how does the dick even go…” Abbi trailed off when she realized that she had wandered off the age-play script.

“Yes?”

“I mean, how would the man get his thing into the woman’s, er, anything from there?”

“Would you like to try it?”

Abbi raised her eyebrows at Mr. Cleveland, shocked and shook.

“I’m only kidding, kiddo. That last one is a joke made up by a talented Academy staffer. Any answer you give will be correct.”

“Surly Ape it is, I guess.”

“That’s as good as any.”

“What happens if I fail this assignment?” Abbi had realized early on that Mr. Cleveland wouldn’t say whether she had answered any of the questions right, let alone passed the quiz. Being a fan of porn in general, she had been pretty confident of about half of them and found most of the rest through book searches.

“Well, I can tell you now that you haven’t failed the quiz.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Abbi said, relieved.

“As you know, Ms. Ford can be quite strict. Failing a quiz, forgetting to turn in an assignment, being late to class without an excuse, stuff like that usually warrants a trip to detention. This is true for most of the Academy’s teachers.”

“Oh, no!”

“Ms. Ford usually oversees detention periods she assigns to naughty students herself.”

Abbi could only shudder in response.

“What’s it like down there, on the 3rd floor?”

“Miss Abbi, you’re such a Good Little Girl I doubt you’ll ever be sent there to find out. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, how about that massage?”

Mr. Cleveland smiled. Fireworks exploded in Abbi’s chest.

“Oh, yes, please,” Abbi exclaimed. “Sir, yes please, sir.”

“Ok then, there’s a few things we should talk about before getting started.”

Abbi waited as patiently as her raging libido would allow.

“First, would you like to keep your clothes on, or are you comfortable disrobing?”

“I’ll disrobe,” she replied, a little too quickly. “You mean like, totally naked?”

“If you wish,” Mr. Cleveland hesitated. “I’m usually able to get good results if you want to keep your underwear on.”

“Um, ok,” Abbi said, a little disappointed in herself. Wait, what the hell? She wondered. “Actually, Mr. Cleveland, I’m perfectly ok with being naked if you are.”

“As you wish,” he winked. “So, next, consent must be given before I’m allowed to touch you.”

This was rich because he had been gently touching her shoulder, arm, hand, and even her knee the whole tutoring session. He’d even briefly rested his warm hand on her head after she figured out a particularly challenging sex position diagram.

“I intend to massage your whole back, neck, and sides.”

Even though she knew it was coming (consent was the main topic of discussion with the Society admissions official in the months leading up to her enrollment), his request for consent was still dumbfounding and stimulating.

“I give you permission to touch my naked body,” she said, adding, “Anywhere you want. Please.”

“That’s a little more than I asked for, but I appreciate the sentiment,” he smirked. “One last question.”

“Yes sir?”

“Do you need to go to the little girl’s room before we begin? The massage will last around an hour at least.”

–

Abbi met Blair in the girl’s bathroom.

“How’s it going in there, Blair?”

“My tutor is the Health-ed teacher, Ms. Clinton. She had me do homework, which was kinda dumb, but she rubbed my shoulders when I got stuck on one of the questions.”

“Oh, that’s nice!”

While they were washing their hands, a Freshmen girl Abbi didn’t know came into the bathroom wearing bright yellow footie pajamas. She was sucking her thumb and carrying a panda teddy bear. The girl appeared to be a few years older than either of them, but clearly played much younger.

Blair and Abbi suppressed a giggle as the girl went into the far stall.

“Ms. Clinton also brushed her big titties against my shoulders and the back of my head, like a bunch,” Blair whispered. Abbi found herself loving the girl’s Southern accent.

“Mr. Cleveland is my tutor, from homeroom. He’s going to give me a massage,” Abbi whispered back.

“Aw, lucky!” Blair cried. “I don’t know what Ms. Clinton has planned for me. I wonder if she’ll let me suck on her titties like my mommy does.”

“I, uh…”

“My Mommy, not my like, you know, real mother.”

“It’s ok, I have a Daddy who isn’t my father. I know what you mean.”

They shared a knowing grin.

“Best of luck then, Blair,” Abbi said as she tossed the used paper towel and pushed open the door.

“You too, Abbi.”

–

Mr. Cleveland was standing in the bondage closet next to the massage chair. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and was rubbing lotion into his hands.

“I can give you some privacy, if you like, while you disrobe.”

“It’s ok Mr. Cleveland, I don’t mind.”

“It’s, um,” he harumphed, “improper for me to, um.”

Abbi couldn’t tell if he was really that uncomfortable or was just a really good actor. Either way, she did notice him standing at just the right angle behind the chair to hide what was sure to be an obvious erection.

“You can turn around, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does, Miss Abbi. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Abbi realized just then that he was trying to get her to role-play more. That, if she were to ‘act her age’ more accurately, she should be so much more modest, even ashamed of the idea of getting nude in front of this stranger.

Instead, she was playing more like an ingénue, seducing this attractive middle-aged teacher rather than the other way around.

This is gonna take some getting used to, she wondered.

Abbi hung her cardigan on the hook behind the bedroom door and then took her time unbuttoning the blouse. Mr. Cleveland stood resolutely with his back to her.

The blouse went on the bed, along with her skirt. Abbi wondered for a moment about how she could follow Mr. Cleveland’s lead and allow herself to be seduced by him.

“Um, sir?” she cleared her throat.

Mr. Cleveland threw a quick look over his shoulder. Abbi caught a look at herself in the mirror, seeing what he saw for the barest moment. A short, thin girl with mousy brown hair, standing in her plain white bra and cotton panties, white stockings still snug around her lower thighs. So sweet, innocent, and enticing.

Hey now, she wondered, I would totally fuck me. She was unaccustomed to finding herself anything other than really plain and maybe kind of cute.

“Yes, Miss Abbi?” She could hear the blush in his voice.

“Do you really need me to take off my bra and panties?” she said as coquettishly as efficient.

“Whatever you are comfortable with dear,” he answered. “I will have to unhook your bra and maybe pull down your underwear a little, but I can work around it all if you want to keep your modesty.”

“I do,” she breathed. “I’m sorry if I was too familiar before sir.”

She walked past the threshold of the bondage closet and stood before the chair. Abbi had at all times been jealous of the people who felt comfortable enough to get a massage on one of these, out in the open, while everyone walked past them at the mall. This one seemed as awkward as the mall chairs; there was a place to rest her knees, but no seat that she could see. The forearm rests were separate, rather than being a padded shelf that she could cross her arms on. There was an angled padded shelf for her torso, and a big donut to rest her face on and not suffocate.

“It’s alright Miss Abbi.” He turned to face her. Acting or not, Mr. Cleveland was definitely flushed and there was most certainly a visible outline of the erection that seemed to crest just below the waistband of his trousers

He didn’t seem to notice her looking though; all his attention was on trying his best to avoid leering at her.

“Please, have a seat, young miss.”

Abbi settled into the chair. Rather than being awkward, the angle of the torso pad made it perfectly comfortable.

“Forgive me for saying so,” Mr. Cleveland hesitated again. “I really shouldn’t say so, but…”

“What is it, sir?”

“You are just the prettiest! So petite and lovely. I bet your girlfriends are all so jealous.”

Now Abbi was blushing. She pressed her face into the donut headrest.

“I guess so, I really don’t know.”