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Thread: The Teacher's Pet (F/f)

  1. #1
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    The Teacher's Pet (F/f)

    This story has a very slow build up, but I ask you to stay with it.

    Prologue

    As I sit at the desk in my bedroom on the eve of my eighth year as a teacher, I can't help but chuckle while recalling the events that led me to this point in my life. There was a time when I was the nervous and insecure "Ugly Amber", but now I have a scared little puppy-girl sitting on the floor in front of me - carefully giving me my weekly pedicure.

    How did I get here? Let me go back to the beginning.

    For most of my life I have enjoyed providing instruction and guidance to others. Seeing the look in someone's eyes as the invisible light bulb goes on above their head is so very rewarding to me.

    It started when I showed the girl sitting next to me in my first-grade class how to spell a word she was having a hard time with. From that point on, I took every opportunity to help struggling students in any way I could. Since I had always been a quick learner, I was able to tutor fellow classmates who were falling behind.

    While I mostly considered my intellectual gifts to be a blessing, there was a downside. Once I reached middle school, the 'cool' kids labeled me as a nerd and a geek. I suppose my appearance had something to do with it too. Between sixth and tenth grades, I went through quite an awkward phase. I was a tall skinny girl, I had braces on my teeth, and I also had tiny breasts at a time when most of the other girls in my grade had fully blossomed.

    The verbal and physical bullying I lived through for being a 'plain Jane' and a 'know-it-all' is something that still makes me cringe whenever I think back on it. That bitch Becky Madison and her stuck-up friends would call me names, push me to the ground, kick me, and then laugh hysterically as I struggled to pick up my books and papers from the floor - some of which they would just stand on until I kissed their shoes or did some other degrading act. God, I hated them!

    Thankfully, my body developed nicely during eleventh grade. By the start of my senior year in high school I had filled into my nearly six-foot frame and instead of being ridiculed, I was getting looks and even several whistles from the guys as I walked through the halls. I finally had a sexy figure, and breasts that I was no longer embarrassed about. I even started tutoring a few members of the football team as well as a couple of cheerleaders. It felt great to suddenly be popular.

    My newfound confidence emboldened me to dress in clothes that showed off my assets. During the last few months of high school, I began wearing more revealing tops along with short skirts and high-heeled sandals. I reveled in the attention I received from everyone - boys, girls, and even teachers. My math teacher, Mr. Halpern, practically drooled all over himself as he constantly tried to stop staring at me. I'm pretty sure the A that I received for the final semester had nothing to do with my actual test and assignment grades. With it being close to graduation, I stopped putting effort into what was my least favorite subject.

    I made my parents proud of their only child when I received a full scholastic scholarship to the University of Miami. They had hoped I would attend a college close to home, and this made it convenient for them to occasionally visit me - or for me to sometimes come home for a weekend to my parent's house in the middle Florida Keys. When I graduated after four years near the top of my class with a teaching degree, they were over the moon.

    I moved into my own apartment in Key Largo within a few months of receiving my diploma. I managed to secure a job as a substitute teacher for that school district, no doubt helped by the fact that the men who interviewed me were falling all over themselves to get in my panties - or perhaps my bra. It was probably both, since I wore a shirt that showed off my cleavage perfectly and that micro-skirt didn't really hide what was underneath whenever I uncrossed my legs.

    Because being a substitute was no guarantee of receiving steady income, I took a part-time job as a waitress at a local bar and grill. It wasn't too bad, especially since I worked evening shifts and drunk guys ogling their pretty servers tended to tip well. Of course, I sometimes had to slap groping hands away from me. And while the waitressing job paid the bills, I truly wanted to be a full-time teacher and not have to deal with lewd customers.

    My prayers were answered during Christmas break, although it was due to rather unfortunate circumstances. I received a call on December 30th from an administrator, telling me that the twelfth-grade English teacher, Barbara Anderson, was involved in a horrible skiing accident. She had gone with her family on a trip to Lake Tahoe and had been hospitalized for severe head injuries while attempting one of the expert slopes.

    He went on to tell me that because her recovery was expected to take a long time, they needed someone to fill-in for the remainder of the school year. Since I was the most qualified of the substitutes to teach high school English, they chose me. I was to familiarize myself with the syllabus and would be teaching three classes each day at Coral Shores High School, beginning on Monday January 5th.

    On one hand I was ecstatic for the opportunity to do what I loved while earning a full-time salary. On the other hand, I felt terrible for Barb. She was an excellent teacher and although I only met with her a few times, she seemed like such a sweet lady. I certainly hoped she would heal quickly and completely.

    The next few days were a whirlwind, as I prepared myself to mold the minds of boys and girls who would be going out into the world or starting college in a matter of months. I was able to get up to speed with what they had been taught and what they were still expected to learn. I also tried to find out everything I could about the students in the classes I would be teaching, figuring I could impress them right away.

    The evening before the first day of school after the break, I decided I would make use of the journal I had received as a Christmas gift. It would be fun to document everything that happened in my first semester of having a full-time teaching gig. What I didn't realize at the time was exactly how much my life would change, and would make me the woman I am today. My writings may have started out about the events that took place inside the classroom, but soon shifted to cover a lot of 'extra-curricular' activities.

    I have just recently put the finishing touches on my story, or should I say - my novel. It was culled from a combination of my first-year journal entries and my memories of a time that has led me somewhere I could have never imagined. And I owe it all to an amazing student, who opened my eyes to a world that I didn't even know existed.

    My hope is that anyone who reads this does so with an open mind. It certainly helped me as I went through all of these wondrous experiences.

    Oh, and that reminds me, I better lean down and check on the puppy-girl's progress - just to make sure she isn't messing up my pedicure. The thought of once again tormenting her for not doing it correctly is making me very wet!
    Last edited by OneAuthor; 07-08-2017 at 06:19 PM.

  2. #2
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    Monday, January 5

    The alarm clock rang at 5:00 AM. I fumbled to turn the damn thing off in the dark, and accidentally knocked it halfway across the room.

    Shit, now I actually had to get up to make the noise stop.

    I stumbled into the bathroom, wondering why in God’s name anyone would want to get up every day at the ass-crack of dawn. My eyes were like slits until the warm water from the shower hit my face. Once I was clean and dry, I finally felt awake.

    A half hour later, I was thankful for being awakened so early. It took me that long just to choose my outfit. I wanted to make a good impression on my first day as a full-time teacher, but I didn’t want to be dressed too provocatively. Or too conservatively. Or too unfashionably. Ugh, I had to stop overthinking it!

    I settled on a white short-sleeved blouse with some frills, which wasn’t so thin that my lacy pink bra could be seen through the material. The black skirt I chose hung just below my knees, but the slit up the side made it look a little sexier than it would have otherwise been. The black thigh high stockings went well with this ensemble, and the skimpy pink bikini underwear would be safely hidden from view. The final piece was the 3 inch black heels.

    After a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with fruit, I was energized for the day. As I did my hair and makeup, I went over my schedule. In addition to overseeing fifth period study hall, I would be teaching all three 12th grade English classes – second period track B, third period track A, and sixth period advanced placement. I kind of liked the idea of working my way up the student IQ ladder as the day went along.

    I arrived at school at 7:30 and went toward the offices. It was nice to be greeted warmly by a few of the teachers and the principal – George Ferrera. He showed me to my small office, and I adorned the desk with a few personal effects from my bag. I then went to the faculty break room to put my lunch – a chicken salad I had prepared the night before – in the refrigerator. Afterwards, I enjoyed another cup of coffee while engaging in idle chit-chat with several of my colleagues.

    The thought of them being ‘my colleagues’ sent a delightful shiver right through me. Although I had substituted at the high school a few times during the fall semester, this felt completely different. Maybe it was the fact that I was being treated so nicely, or the knowledge that I wasn’t just here for the day. Whatever it was, I truly felt like I belonged.

    Since I wasn’t required to report to a classroom for another ninety minutes, I stayed in the lounge while most of the other teachers shuffled away for homeroom duty – or to teach first period. I decided to use the time to review my notes. I chuckled at the notion that Barb had given writing assignments to all of her students during their Christmas break. Damn, I would have hated that when I was a senior!

    As I shook my head, I looked up and noticed a pretty woman sitting on the other side of the room. She must have heard my laughter, and she flashed me a smile before returning to reading her book. I remembered seeing her before, but I had not been introduced to her. It looked like she was close to my age, so maybe this was her first year as a full-time teacher as well. I resumed checking over my notes while thinking that it might be nice to get to know her sometime.

    The bell rang to signal the end of first period, and I took a deep breath before standing up. I tried to look self-assured as I walked toward the classroom, but it was difficult to hide my nervousness. This was it – the first time I would stand before a roomful of students as their teacher. I wouldn’t just be a fill-in: someone they could easily dismiss with the idea “who cares about her because she won’t be here tomorrow.” I would be their actual English teacher.

    The butterflies in my stomach had become deranged bats by the time I reached the door, threatening to force everything I had eaten that morning to spew from my mouth. My mind kept coming up with worst-case scenarios. What if these students didn’t respect me, since I wasn’t much older than them? I had never taught a twelfth-grade class before – what if I sounded stupid? What if they all laughed at me? Or ignored me?

    I needed to compose myself, and quickly!

    I leaned against the wall outside of the room, closed my eyes, and repeatedly told myself that I could do this. It’s not like I hadn’t stood before a class full of kids before, and it was exactly what I’d always wanted to do. With my confidence somewhat restored, I straightened up and strode into class just as the bell rang to signal the start of the period.

    What awaited me was a familiar scene, but not one I wished to see repeated. Very few students were seated; most were standing in small groups, talking or laughing. The ones who weren’t socializing were furiously typing away on their phones, no doubt texting their friends. I quietly closed the door, went toward my large oak desk, and dropped my bag on it with a loud thud. The room fell silent, and most eyes became focused in my direction.

    I cleared my throat, knowing that I needed to set the proper tone for the rest of the school year.

    “Good morning. Now that I have your attention, I want everyone in their seats... pronto!”

    It seemed the emphasis I placed on the last word, along with the scowl on my face, let them know I was dead serious. I had to suppress a smile as they went scurrying to their desks.

    “Also, put your cell phones away. I don’t want to see them or hear them in my classroom – unless there’s a family emergency.”

    Within moments, it appeared that I finally had a captive audience. I stepped in front of my desk and gazed around the room. There were roughly thirty students, many of them looking at me like I was crazy. I wondered whether Barb wasn’t strict, and they weren’t used to someone speaking so sternly to them – or perhaps it was something else. Maybe there had been a malfunction with my wardrobe. Shit, that wouldn’t be good!

    I quickly glanced down, and breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t notice anything out of place. My overactive imagination needed to stop stressing me out. Focus, Amber, focus.

    Resting my backside on the oak desk, I folded my hands in my lap and exhaled deeply. “With all of that squared away, let me introduce myself. I am Miss Nolan. As you may have heard, Mrs. Anderson was in a terrible accident during Christmas break. Since it’s expected to take at least three months until she’s back on her feet, I’ll be your English teacher for the rest of the school year.”

    There were several groans at that remark. I briefly scanned the room, but couldn’t locate the offending students. I needed to stop letting my paranoid mind get the best of me. Surely they had just been upset to hear the news about one of their favorite teachers. It had nothing to do with me, right? I barely had any reputation around here, for crying out loud. What could they have possibly heard about me? That my substitute appearances were boring?

    If I didn’t reign in these stupid thoughts, I was going to turn myself into a basket case. I needed to put these aside and concentrate on what was important.

    “Now I want you all to know that I only have three rules. Get to class on time, do the work, and be respectful. That last one means that you treat me and each other properly. I don’t want to see fighting, or anyone being picked on. It also means that I want your undivided attention once the bell rings. If I see any of you using electronic devices or talking while you’re in my class, I won’t hesitate to hand out a punishment – such as making you write a 2000-word essay on the meaning of the word ‘respect’. Am I clear?”

    Yes! I had practiced that little speech a hundred times in my head, and the stunned expressions on my students’ faces as they collectively nodded were a clear indication that I had delivered it just the way I’d hoped.

    With my self-assurance renewed, I stood up straight and smiled. “Good. Let’s begin then, shall we?”

    I started by going desk-to-desk collecting the writing assignments from each student, which helped me match faces with names. And only one of them failed to hand me a completed paper. It was amusing to hear the boy prattle on about how he had finished it, but accidentally left it at home, and didn’t realize it until he got to school, and blah blah blah. I had to cut him off – informing him that he would be losing an entire letter grade for each day the assignment was late.

    The remainder of the period went about as well as I could have expected. It appeared that my threat to give out extra homework to anyone who didn’t behave got through to them, because I only twice had to pause and glare in the direction of whispering – putting an immediate stop to it.

    But what pleased me the most was that the students were engaged. They truly seemed interested in what I was teaching them. In fact, every time I asked a question – multiple hands went up. One of them even challenged a point made by another student. I had to pinch myself at that!

    Just as the period ended, I sent them off with some light reading for homework. It was their first day back from the holiday break, and I didn’t want to overwhelm them right away. That would be happening soon enough, I thought with a smirk.

    It was nice to be able to stay in the same room and sit down for a few minutes, while the students from my next class filed in. When the bell rang for the start of the new period, however, I once again had to deal with a roomful of teenagers who didn’t seem to understand that they needed to be quiet – and in their seats.

    This time, I wasn’t worried about how to handle the situation. Instead, I slammed the door shut to get their attention and then repeated the spiel I had given to my previous class. The results were the same – I taught an attentive and obedient group of students, with only a couple of murmurs that I silenced with a look.

    Before I knew it, the bell rang and the classroom emptied. I picked up the large stack of papers on my desk and walked to my office. After dropping them into a filing cabinet drawer, I headed to the break room to have lunch.

    When I arrived, I noticed that a number of teachers were already there. I grabbed my chicken salad, and was signaled by one of ‘my colleagues’ that I had been chatting with a few hours earlier to sit at his table. As I approached, I saw two other male teachers sitting with him – and an empty chair.

    For the next fifteen minutes, I felt like I was on a group first date with three anti-social nerds. Even though I had previously talked to one of them, they all acted like awkward teenagers who had difficulty holding a conversation with a pretty girl. And these were all married men in their thirties and forties!

    While I wasn’t expecting them to be so uptight, I did find their behavior flattering. Their stuttering, fumbling with their utensils, and avoiding eye contact with me; it was a delightful combination of cute and hilarious. I had trouble stifling my giggles, until finally I laughed out loud. That broke the tension, and the remaining thirty minutes of our time together was a much more relaxed atmosphere.

    In fact, they became rather flirtatious. Of course, that might have had something to do with me. Ever since my first year at college, I’ve been known to be touchy-feely when I’m comfortable around someone and I couldn’t help but place my hand on an arm or a shoulder when I was answering a question – or chuckling from one of their comments.

    That annoying bell marked the end of our banter. My table-mates needed to excuse themselves, because they all taught fifth period classes. I stayed to finish the last few bites of food, and check a message on my phone. Those damn telemarketers – didn’t they know I wasn’t eligible to join AARP for at least another thirty years?

    As I rose from my seat and turned to leave, I saw that pretty teacher who had smiled at me a few hours earlier. She was once again sitting at a table by herself. I considered approaching her and introducing myself, but she was talking to someone on her cell phone. Another time, I thought.

    I spent a few minutes making a final review of the curriculum for the upcoming AP course I would be teaching, and then decided to head over to the classroom early. If my memory served me right, the room would be empty at that time.

    Since I had a little over twenty minutes to kill, I continued reading the latest Danielle Steel novel – which I had started a couple days prior. It was the type of book that provided some excitement to what had recently become a rather mundane existence for me. Damn, I needed to get a social life!

    When the students began arriving, I placed the book in my bag and pulled out my phone. I wanted to find out when the shoes that I ordered online would be shipping. I was glad to see they were scheduled to arrive at my apartment before the end of the week.

    After a quick check of my bank account, I bent down to put my phone away when I heard loud voices from across the room. I shot up straight and tried to find where the commotion was coming from. While most of the kids were doing something on their phones or talking to each other at a normal volume, I saw two boys and two girls in the back – pointing at another girl and laughing.

    My brows lowered and my nostrils flared. This poor girl was being picked on! Within seconds, I was on my feet and making a beeline toward the cruel students that were having their jollies at someone else’s expense. I wasn’t about to allow this disgrace to continue!

    I got about halfway there when the offending teenagers must have realized an angry teacher was approaching. They scattered to their seats before I could take another step, so I stopped and looked at them all with great disdain. I then gave a pitying look toward the victim of their ridicule, but she had her head down. It was obvious that she was quite upset.

    Just as I was about to go to her and offer consolation, the bell went off to mark the start of the period. That thing had such rotten timing! I let out a sigh, figuring I could talk to her later. But before I returned to my desk, I saw the girl seated behind the one who had been treated badly put a hand on her shoulder. I then overheard that girl say that it was awful for her to be treated like that again – especially on her birthday.

    Once I delivered my speech about who I was and what I expected from my students – for the third time that day – I collected their homework. I gave a sympathetic smile to the unfortunate girl when she handed her papers to me. I looked at the name on the front: Polly Wilkerson. I nodded to the girl sitting behind Polly, and saw from her assignment that she was named Tanya Zimmerman.

    The rest of the period went off without a hitch, and most of the students were quick to leave when it was over. Polly and Tanya were the last two to get up from their seats, so I asked Polly if I could speak with her for a moment. She nodded and told her friend she would catch up with her later.

    When the door closed behind Tanya, I stepped toward Polly. She seemed nervous, as if she was in trouble. I smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm down the petite and shy-looking girl.

    “Polly, I feel terrible that those kids were teasing you. Do you want to talk to me about it?”

    She looked up at me with her big green eyes, and shook her head.

    “I want you to know that I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior. If I see it happen again, I’m going to hand out punishments.”

    I could feel Polly tremble slightly, and then she cleared her throat. “Th-that’s okay, M-miss Nolan. It’s, um, n-no big deal.”

    “But it is a big deal. Well, it is to me anyway.”

    She gave me a curious look.

    “When I was in middle school, I got picked on...a lot. Believe me, I know how horrible it is.”

    “R-really?”

    “Yes, really. I used to be called ‘Ugly Amber’...especially when I wore braces.”

    “I, wow, I can’t believe that, Miss Nolan. You’re so...beautiful.”

    I chuckled and patted her shoulder. “Thank you, Polly. I did blossom nicely in high school, but I went through a really awkward and embarrassing phase before that. And trust me, some kids were absolutely brutal.”

    I heard her sigh as she looked down at the floor. After a few moments, she looked back up at me.

    “Yeah, it, uh, does kind of bother me a little. But, I-I don’t want you to do anything.”

    I cocked my head. “Why not?”

    “I, well...” Her eyes welled up, and she took several deep breaths. “The last time a teacher tried to help me like that, the kids who were, um, teasing me...they got really mad, and they, uh, m-made it a lot worse outside of class.”

    At this point, tears were running down her cheeks. I remembered I had a few tissues in my bag, and hurried to get them for her.

    “Th-thank you, Miss Nolan,” she said as she took them from me.

    “You’re welcome.” I waited for her to dry her face, and then I continued. “And I just want you to understand that I’m here for you if you need someone to talk to. I’ll try not to do anything to make things worse for you, but at the same time I will have to discipline them if they’re causing a disruption.”

    She sniffled and offered me a half-smile. “I-I understand. And, and thanks again for being so nice to me.”

    I smiled as a put an arm around her. “Of course, Polly. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.”

    After I gave her a slight squeeze, she looked up at me with a bigger smile and then pulled away.

    “I g-gotta go now, Miss Nolan, or, or, I’ll be late for my next class.”

    “Okay sure. Just remember what I said.”

    “Thanks, I will.”

    I watched her walk to the door and open it. I then realized I had forgotten to say something to her.

    “Polly!” She turned her head toward me. “I heard it was your birthday.”

    “Yeah, I-I’m eighteen today.”

    “Happy birthday. And I hope the rest of your day goes well.”

    “Me too. Thanks!”

    As I gathered up my belongings and the stack of papers from the desk, I wondered how long this girl had been dealing with verbal abuse. Maybe it had even gotten physical, too. It pained me to think that she may have been enduring this for years. I decided right then that I should continue having a chat with her after class each day.

    Later that evening, I was grading the papers my students had worked on during the holidays. Some were very good, and some were just okay. A few of them, however, were so bad that I couldn’t believe high schoolers had written them. I laughed, thinking that maybe they had each hired an eight-year-old to do it for them.

    When I was about halfway through the pile, I noticed how late it was. I figured I would read one more and then call it a night. I still had to write in my journal, and I didn’t want to get less than six hours of sleep.

    I flipped over the next one, and chuckled when I saw it was Polly’s paper. She had been on my mind ever since I witnessed her being teased, so I felt like it was the perfect note to end on.

    And “perfect” was the appropriate word, as it was by far the most well-written assignment I had come across that night. If her paper was anything to go by, she was an intelligent and mature young woman. In fact, I was pretty sure that it was better than anything I could have produced myself. The only thing I wrote on it was at the top of the first page: “Excellent work, A+.”

    While making the first entry in my journal, I thought about the reserved and anxious girl. She was short, perhaps five feet tall at the most. And she appeared to weigh about ninety pounds soaking wet. Her clothing and hairstyle were plain and drab, and it seemed like she wasn’t wearing any makeup. All of this combined to make her look frumpy and nerdy – an easy target for bullies.

    Aside from the height difference, I saw so much of my young self in Polly. Heck, even now I still succumbed to uneasy feelings at times. Just that morning I had nearly feinted from nervousness when I was about to teach my first class – before I pulled myself together.

    I shook my head, knowing all-too-well what it was like to be shy and apprehensive.

    But then an idea struck me. Perhaps I could use my experiences to help boost Polly’s confidence. I smiled at that notion, and hoped it could lead to a day when she was no longer the victim of her classmates’ ridicule – but was instead the object of their envy.

  3. #3
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    Friday, January 9

    Today began with a surprise, at least as far as I was concerned. I actually woke up before the alarm went off!

    Okay, so it was only a minute prior. But I never thought I could get out of bed before 5 AM on my own.

    I suppose this is what having a full-time teaching job does to a person. I’m sure it also helped that I was asleep by 9:30 last night.

    Nine-thirty! Wow, I was becoming my parents. Correction, make that my grandparents. Even my mom and dad wouldn’t go to bed before 10 o’clock. I decided not to dwell on this, so I crawled out from under the covers and made my way to the bathroom.

    After I showered and got dressed – which included putting on a red top that showed a little cleavage, and matching red stockings – I made myself a hard-boiled egg and an English muffin for breakfast.

    As I ate, I thought back to the events of this week. My comfort level with the school’s environment was growing day by day. I was enjoying the interactions with the faculty and my students.

    I couldn’t be happier with how things were going in my second and third period classes. Aside from several hiccups, they paid attention and seemed eager to learn. I believed some of that was due to my teaching style, and how well I could relate to students who were only four or five years younger than me. But I also knew that my looks and what I wore caused a number of the boys to stare at me.

    Perhaps I should have had a problem with being objectified by my male teenage students. However, I saw it as a good thing. I had their complete focus, and they weren’t dozing off or creating disruptions. It was a win-win in my book!

    My sixth period class, however, left a bit to be desired. While most of the pupils behaved well, there were a few more incidents similar to what happened on my first day. I threatened the offenders with additional homework when it occurred again on Tuesday, but two days later they were back at it. So, I gave them tedious writing assignments. I was curious to find out whether they took it seriously – or if they even bothered to do it at all.

    With that in mind, my thoughts went to Polly. I had spent a minute or two talking with her each day after class, to see how she was doing. I could tell she was uncomfortable opening up to me. Maybe the reason was due to her shyness, or the fact that she didn’t really know me, or that we only had a very short time to chat each day.

    Whatever it was, she was holding something back. And she always needed to leave before I could get her to say much, or before I could suggest things she might do to help her situation.

    On my ten-minute drive to the school, I tried to come up with a way to get through to her. It had to be something non-threatening. I didn’t want to lose her trust. But I needed to let her know that with a few changes – both in her appearance and her mindset – she could make this problem go away.

    The morning went by in a similar fashion to previous ones. I spent time engaging in small talk with Principal Ferrera and several male teachers before the homeroom period started. I then prepared the day’s syllabus, before teaching my morning classes. I gave the students a lengthier reading assignment for the weekend – one that would take them about an hour. That didn’t seem too bad, given how long I would be spending preparing coursework for them.

    My lunch routine continued, with the same three married guys sitting at a table with me. It was fun to talk and flirt with them. I figured they were harmless. Well, I hoped they were – since they had wives. Of course, that hadn’t stopped some of the creeps from coming on to me when I was waitressing. But then, those jerks weren’t my coworkers.

    As usual, I saw the pretty female teacher. I found it odd that she always sat by herself, either doing something on her phone or reading a book. I still hadn’t said anything to her. I had yet to find the right opportunity.

    After reading the last few pages of my book – another triumph by Ms. Steele – I made my way to the classroom to teach AP English. What I found when I arrived startled me.

    There sat Polly in a front-row desk, with her head in her hands. I rushed to place my bag and papers on my chair, as I heard her sniffle.

    “Polly,” I said while squatting down beside her. “What’s wrong?”

    She lifted her face to reveal her puffy eyes and wet cheeks. “I, i-it’s, th-they...” She broke down in tears, burying her head in her hands once more.

    I placed an arm around her, and let her cry for several moments. When I heard her sobs become soft whimpers, she removed her hands from her face and leaned into me.

    “Th-they were...t-teasing me a-again.” She sniffled and wiped away some of her tears. “I-it wa-was those s-same kids who, who p-pick on me in class.”

    “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I gave her a gentle hug, and then went to my bag to retrieve tissues for her. “What were they saying?” I asked while handing over the tissues.

    She dried her eyes and blew her nose. “They, they called me a dork...and, and a nerd...a-and ‘Plain Polly’...and ‘Puny Polly’...and e-even ‘P-pathetic Polly’.”

    “That’s horrible!” I moved a few stray hairs from her face, and looked into her eyes. “How long have they been doing this to you?”

    She glanced down and took a deep breath. “S-since I started h-high school. A-and it keeps g-getting worse.”

    I shook my head and was about to say something, but she continued.

    “Like, at lunch today...they, they came to where I was sitting, and started c-calling me names...like, really loud...s-so everyone could hear it.”

    “Wow, that’s awful.”

    “Yeah, and, and then one of them m-messed up my hair, a-and another one spit in my f-face…and e-everyone laughed at me!”

    I could see tears welling in her eyes again, and she turned away from me.

    After letting out a sigh, I rubbed her shoulder. “Is that when you came here?”

    “Yes…I-I was only here for l-like a minute before you w-walked in.”

    I used my hand to gently turn her face toward me. “I am truly sorry that you have to deal with this. Believe me, I know how much it stinks. But I want to help you.”

    She sniffled and tilted her head. “H-how?”

    “Well, first of all, I think you should sit right here in front during my class. Being so close to the teacher, those mean kids should leave you alone – at least during this period. How does that sound?”

    “Um, o-okay I guess.”

    “Great...but there’s still the issue of how to get them off your back when you’re not in this room.”

    She shook her head and exhaled deeply. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

    I gave her a warm smile. “I believe I do. It’s something I was thinking about this morning.”

    The look on her face changed to one of curiosity. I stood up, walked in front of her desk, and placed a hand on my hip.

    “Do you like the way I dress?”

    She nodded. “Y-you look really pretty, Miss Nolan.”

    “Do you own any clothes like these?”

    She shook her head. “N-not really.”

    “Then we need to take care of that. What are you doing next Saturday?”

    That question seemed to confuse her. “I, um, I’m n-not sure. Why?”

    “Because I want to take you shopping. I know a place where we can get clothes like the ones I’m wearing for fairly cheap. What do you say?”

    “I, well, I…”

    “Look, it won’t cost you anything. I can pay for a few outfits. I just think if you update your wardrobe to something a bit more, let’s say, stylish...those bullies might see you differently...and maybe they’ll stop bothering you.”

    “Hmmm…” She scratched her head, and I could tell she was thinking about it. “…okay, sure, I’ll, I’ll go. But, but you don’t have to pay for me. I have some money saved up.”

    “Excellent!” I said as I clapped my hands together. “I can pick you up at noon. You’ll just have to give me your address.”

    “O-okay,” she said while nodding, “I-I will. But, uh, I think it would be best if, um, my parents think you’re helping me with a school project. I-it might be weird if they know my teacher is taking me clothes shopping.”

    “No problem, Polly. I understand.” I then glanced up at the clock. “Oh, it’s almost time for class to start. You might want to go to the bathroom and fix your hair, before anyone else comes in.”

    “Yeah, good idea.” She grabbed her purse out of her school bag and sprang to her feet. “And thanks, Miss Nolan. You’re being really nice to me.”

    “It’s my pleasure, Polly.”

    After she returned, the other students began arriving. As each one entered the room, I told them I was assigning them to new seats. They looked at me like I was from Mars, but they went where I instructed.

    I made sure that Polly’s friend Tanya sat next to her – and that the troublemakers were in the back, on the far side of the room.

    This seemed to work, at least in the short term. Other than a few whispers between the mischief-makers, which I ended with a scowl, there were no problems.

    Of course, I received the usual stares from the boys in the class throughout the period. Some of them were quite transfixed on my legs, which I liked to show off by wearing stockings with skirts or dresses that ranged in length from mid-thigh to just below the knee. On this day, my black skirt was a bit above my knees – so they had plenty of leg to gawk at.

    One thing that I noticed was that Polly appeared to be eyeing me up the same way. For a brief moment, I wondered if she liked girls – and was attracted to me. But then I remembered I had asked her to go clothes shopping with me. No doubt she was just admiring my wardrobe, perhaps imagining how she would look in a skirt like mine.

    When the bell rang and most of the room had emptied, I walked to Polly’s desk. After she finished gathering her things, she stood up and gave me a half-smile.

    “Thanks again, Miss Nolan. You’re, like, the nicest teacher ever.”

    “And you’re just the sweetest student ever.”

    We both chuckled, and then I patted her shoulder.

    “I thought of something else that should help you. Do you have any makeup at home?”

    “Um, well, I have lipstick. But that’s all.”

    “Okay, because I’ve never seen you wear any. Also, have you ever considered a different hairstyle?”

    She lowered her eyebrows and scrunched her nose. “W-what’s wrong with my hair?”

    “Nothing,” I said as I threw my arms up. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Polly. You have great hair. It’s just…well...perhaps giving it a little more body would make it look even better.”

    She ran a hand through her shoulder-length, straight brown hair. ‘Straight’ wasn’t the right word. A better description would have been ‘limp and lifeless’.

    “Well…I don’t know, Miss Nolan. This is how my hair’s always been. And, and my mom might get mad if I change it.”

    I placed a hand on her arm. “I don’t want to pressure you into this, Polly. But perhaps you could try talking to your parents about the possibility of doing a little something different with your hair...or wearing a bit of makeup.”

    “I, I guess,” she said with a shrug.

    Seeing her reluctance about this – and knowing she needed to leave – I decided not to push the issue.

    “We can talk about it next week. Okay?”

    She glanced at the clock. “Sure…but I gotta go, Miss Nolan.”

    “Have a good weekend, Polly.”

    “You too!” She flashed me a smile, and then hurried out of the classroom.

    I spent my time after school eating a microwave meal, watching television, and playing a game on my laptop. I couldn’t believe that a young single woman such as I was not out trying to find Mister or Miss Right. Did I really become this boring? Was I really staying home on a Friday night?

    Then again, I had seen first-hand what type of assholes showed up at bars and night clubs. I didn’t feel like subjecting myself to that situation – at least not now. Perhaps once I was fully comfortable with my new routine, I would put myself out there again.

    In the meantime, I had to focus on being the best teacher that I could be for my three classes of students. And I had a fun side-project to work on as well – helping a meek and ordinary girl blossom into a bold and extraordinary woman.

  4. #4
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    Pleassee continue your writing is so perfect and the build up has me sooo excited and eager to see what is nextt

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    Footsniffer Natsuko's Avatar
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    Nice, the start was interesting, cant wait to read how it continues *gg*
    You Wanna Be My Bitch? SMELL MY FEET! *Ooohohohohohoho*

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    feetplz and Natsuko: I am glad you are enjoying the story so far. I will add another chapter today, which will tease a bit more...

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    Monday, January 12

    Is it just me, or do alarm clocks sound louder and more annoying on a Monday than any other day of the week?

    In a related topic, I’m pretty sure Monday is the weekday with the most cases of them being damaged or destroyed.

    After tossing the broken remains of mine into the waste can, I washed myself and took a few minutes to pick out my wardrobe. It seemed like a good day to wear blue, so I chose a powder blue bra and panty set, a medium blue top – which matched the patterned stockings I had recently purchased, a dark blue skirt that hung just below mid-thigh, and navy-blue pumps with three inch heels.

    I went to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal. As I ate my cardboard flakes, the events of the past weekend replayed in my mind.

    If I thought my breakfast was dull, the memory of the previous two days was even more bland. The highlights included buying a few new pairs of stockings on Saturday and having lunch with my parents on Sunday. The fact that working on a lesson plan qualified as a ‘top three activity’ was evidence of how sad I had become. At least I didn’t own a cat – yet.

    On my way out the door, I grabbed my umbrella. While watching the evening news on Sunday, I had seen there was a chance of showers. I was thankful for having paid attention to this, as the rain began falling when I pulled into the faculty parking lot.

    During my time in the break room, there was an addition to the group of men I chatted with before the homeroom period started: Vice-principal Roberto Martinez. I was somewhat surprised that he insisted I call him ‘Rob’ – even though many of the other teachers referred to him as Mr. Martinez. Then again, his eyes kept wandering to my legs the entire time. I should have known that his libido would guide how he treated me.

    My morning classes were uneventful. This isn’t to say they were boring. It’s just that there were no problems with the students, and I felt like they were absorbing everything I was teaching them. I would find out if this was true later in the week, because I planned to spring a pop-quiz on them.

    I was beginning to think that the alarm clock incident would be the most excitement of my day – especially when I spent most of lunch and the following period having a conversation with the tenth-grade science teacher, Linda Polinski. She was nice enough, but I didn’t have anything in common with her. It took until the bell rang to signal the end of fifth period until I could finally tear myself away from her hundredth story about bird watching.

    After a quick stop at my office, I rushed to my AP English class. How much of a hypocrite would I have been if I violated my own rule and arrived late?

    When I got to the doorway, I caught my breath – thankful for making it on time. My relief, however, changed to anger when I peered into the room. Standing by Polly’s desk were the four students who had been taunting her for years. They were blocking my view of her, but I was sure that she was upset – especially after the words that one of the girls then uttered.

    “Aw, does Polly-wolly want her binky-winky?”

    This was said loud enough to elicit laughter from almost everyone in the room.

    Rage welled up inside of me as I clenched my hand into a fist. This poor girl had suffered enough humiliation, and it was high-time I gave these bullies what they deserved!

    I stormed toward them as the bell rang, slamming my bag on my desk. This made them jump and step back from Polly. I then launched into a tirade.

    “Leave her alone! This is the third time I have seen you harassing her, and it ends now!”

    Several of them tried to give me some kind of excuse, including one who said they were just joking with her.

    “Oh, so this is a joke?” I glanced at Polly, and saw she was using a hand to dry her tears. “Do you see her laughing? Do you?!”

    I scowled at the offending students and crossed my arms.

    “Let’s see if you think this is funny. The four of you have one hour of detention tomorrow after school...in this classroom. And believe me, you won’t be doing any laughing then!”

    The scared expressions on their faces were priceless, and I couldn’t help but smirk at them.

    “Now get to your seats...everyone!”

    They scampered to their desks, as did some others who had gathered around to witness the scene.

    I managed to pull myself together and instruct the class, while I stood in front of the large oak desk. They seemed extra attentive, no doubt due in part to my outburst.

    The other thing that appeared to be holding their interest – well, at least the interest of the boys – was the combination of my stockings and the short skirt I wore. In fact, halfway through the period I sat down on the edge of my desk and crossed my legs – dangling a shoe from my foot. This made quite a few male eyes go wide, and mouths drop open.

    It was difficult to keep myself from giggling, but I continued my little leg show until the ending bell sounded. I then hopped down from the desk while the students began exiting. Polly remained in her seat, as did Tanya.

    Once it was just the three of us in the room, I walked toward Polly and put a hand on her shoulder. I noticed her eyes beginning to well up again, and she averted my gaze.

    “Polly,” I said as I rubbed her shoulder, “I can’t believe they treat you like that.”

    “Yeah, it stinks!” Tanya rolled her eyes. “And those rejects are supposed to be high school seniors, not first graders!”

    I shook my head and let out a sigh. “Now Tanya…there’s no need for name calling. Although, you do have a point. They aren’t being very mature.”

    She folded her arms. “I just wish they’d go back to kindergarten, where they belong!”

    “Well, I’m hoping I can help.” I looked down at the sad girl. “Isn’t that right, Polly?”

    While continuing to stare at the floor, she shrugged.

    “What are you going to do, Miss Nolan?” Tanya asked. “Give them three months of detention?”

    “No,” I said with a chuckle. “Didn’t she tell you about this Saturday?”

    She looked at Polly, then at me. “Um, no. What’s happening on Saturday?”

    “I offered to pick her up and take her shopping. I think with a few changes to her hair and wardrobe, she’ll look better. But more importantly, she’ll feel better about herself...and have more confidence.”

    “That sounds like a great idea!” She nudged her friend. “You should definitely go, Polly.”

    “I, I don’t know.” Polly sighed. “M-maybe.”

    “Oh, come on. Miss Nolan’s trying to help. Plus, I’ve been telling you for years that you need to have a different style.”

    “Y-yeah, but...I-I still have to think about it.”

    Tanya rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It’s like you want those jerks to keep picking on you.”

    Polly scowled at her friend. “No, I don’t! I just...” She let out a deep breath and shrugged again.

    I tapped her shoulder. “You don’t think it will change the situation, right?”

    She gave me a slight nod.

    “Well I happen to believe it will. But it’s your decision. Just let me know by Friday.”

    Tanya grabbed her belongings and stood up. “She’ll go with you. Don’t worry, I’ll convince her.” She then looked at her friend. “Come on, Polly. We gotta get to our next class.”

    “I’m coming.” She gathered up her books and her bag, then rose from her seat. “See you tomorrow, Miss Nolan.”

    “Bye girls,” I said as they walked to the doorway. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

    I went to my small office, and stayed there until the school day ended. Most of that time was spent sitting at my desk, wondering what else I could do to stop those mean students from tormenting Polly. I wasn’t sure if she would agree to come with me on Saturday, and I didn’t know whether detention would deter those kids in any way.

    When I walked out of the building – with no additional ideas for how to help the timid girl – I fumbled with my umbrella before getting it open. I had gotten so caught up in this whole Polly thing that I didn’t even realize it was pouring.

    At least I didn’t get soaked, like some students that I saw running toward the bus. I laughed when I recognized a couple of them as the bullies from sixth period. Perhaps they were starting to get a little of their just due.

    My evening consisted of some reading, television, and curriculum planning. With all of that, um, ‘excitement’, it was a miracle I didn’t doze off early. But then, there was something that kept playing in my mind.

    During my AP class, it wasn’t just the boys who were ogling my legs. Similar to last Friday, I swore that I caught Polly staring at me in the exact same way. When I was putting on that leg display, I glanced at her quite a few times. And before she looked away, I was certain that she was gazing at me with lust in her eyes. In fact, I thought I spied her wiping drool from her mouth while I dangled my shoe.

    It could have been my mind playing tricks on me. My overactive imagination has fooled me a number of times. But I’ve seen that look from a woman before. When I started my junior year in college, my roommate had that exact same expression on her face while she watched me studying. And it wasn’t because she liked my outfit!

    I wanted to find out if my suspicion was correct, so I planned to continue wearing skimpy outfits with fashionable stockings throughout the week. I could surely gauge Polly’s reaction to the displays I would put on.

    And if this didn’t confirm anything, then Saturday’s outing should – as long as she could be persuaded to come with me.
    Last edited by OneAuthor; 04-08-2017 at 04:45 PM.

  8. #8
    Fledgling Footsniffer Beckysfootslave1's Avatar
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    I love the build up. I can't wait for the next chapter

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    I am glad you like it, Beckysfootslave1. I plan to post another chapter early next week.

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    God Of Footsniffing sniffguy's Avatar
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    I want to be the next pet

  11. #11
    Footsniffer Natsuko's Avatar
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    Damn, a week is too long to wait! You are teasing us xD
    You Wanna Be My Bitch? SMELL MY FEET! *Ooohohohohohoho*

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  12. #12
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    Far be it for me to tease the lovely Natsuko for too long. So here comes the next chapter a bit earlier than scheduled.

  13. #13
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    Friday, January 16

    After eating my bowl of granola this morning, I wondered why I had started searching on my phone for local self-defense classes. I shook my head and chuckled as I remembered how this occurred.

    Several years ago, I was going to enroll in karate. But things became hot and heavy with Violet, so it didn’t happen. Now that I was living alone, I needed to be able to protect myself from intruders.

    I came to this conclusion based upon the realization that I didn’t own any kind of weapon, such as a baseball bat. Of course, I wasn’t much of a sports person – which explained why I didn’t have one. However, using a bat would have been a perfect test of the new ‘indestructible’ alarm clock I bought on Tuesday evening.

    When the buzzer sounded on that thing at 5 AM, I pounded it so hard that it flew off the night table and onto the hardwood floor. It stopped making noise, and I was worried that I might have broken it. But after careful inspection, I realized it barely had a scratch. I considered throwing it at the wall, to see if it would survive. However, it might have damaged the wall. That was when I wished I had a baseball bat to hit it with.

    My violent reaction to the alarm clock happened because I didn’t get to bed until after midnight. I stayed up late to finish grading quizzes. My students deserved to know their scores without having to wait until next week. Then again – given the results – I’m pretty sure they would have made that sacrifice.

    To summarize: working too hard made me want to sign up for Taekwondo.

    I took a deep breath and set my phone down. Perhaps it was best to wait until I had a good night’s sleep before pursuing martial arts.

    The drive to school took me longer than usual. An accident involving a tanker truck and three other vehicles stopped traffic completely, and my car barely moved for twenty minutes.

    Rather than stew over the fact that I might be late, I used this time to review my lesson plan – and how I might ‘seal the deal’ with Polly. In spite of my best efforts all week, I hadn’t received anything more than a possible maybe from her regarding tomorrow.

    In my optimism, I had made an appointment at the salon for both of us that I didn’t want to cancel. But more importantly, I didn’t want her to pass up this chance to upgrade her image into one that would put an end to her days of being the subject of ridicule.

    My car screeched into the parking space, and I noticed there was only a minute until the homeroom period began. As I almost ran toward my office, I passed a couple of female teachers in the hallway. They gave me a strange look, which I assumed was because I was in a rush and appeared somewhat disheveled.

    Once I caught my breath, I took care of an administrative task and made my way to the break room. I barely finished placing my lunch in the refrigerator when I was swarmed by three male teachers – two of whom I talked to every morning, and a third one I had seen around but hadn’t yet spoken with.

    For the next ten minutes, we had a nice friendly conversation. In fact, they were practically fawning over me. It didn’t occur to me why this was the case until I overheard a comment that Linda made to another teacher, Harriet Adams. They were sitting at a table about ten feet away, and the remark occurred just before the bell rang.

    “I can’t believe they let her dress like that. This is a school for God’s sake, not a whorehouse.”

    This was clearly aimed at me. It made my eyes go wide, and I glanced down.

    The light red shirt I wore did show off my bosom, but didn’t display too much of it. I couldn’t even see the lacy red bra underneath. My maroon skirt was only a bit shorter than the one I wore yesterday. The red patterned stockings went well with the ensemble, and the tops were covered by the skirt. Although they had three-inch heels, my maroon pumps weren’t too outrageous. At least I didn’t think so.

    I was about to turn toward them to say something, but that ill-timed bell sent them scurrying out of the room. The men I had been chatting with also excused themselves.

    For the next half hour, I sat in stunned silence. Did they really think I dressed like a slut? Was it just Linda and Harriet, or did other women I worked with feel the same way? Was my wardrobe the reason those two teachers gave me the odd expression earlier? Was that why the guys were so sweet to me?

    All this time, I had believed my clothing choices were smart. They were the perfect balance of flattering, fashionable, and sexy – without crossing the line. They enhanced my beauty and brought out my best features – my blue eyes, wavy red hair, ample breasts, and long shapely legs. They didn’t make me look like a prostitute. Did they?

    After I let my paranoia play itself out, I came to the conclusion that Linda and Harriet were just jealous. Neither the principal nor vice-principal had said a word to me about what I wore. Certainly, they would have admonished me if they felt I dressed inappropriately. I had seen George on my way to the break room, and he simply smiled at me. And Rob had waved to me before I put my salad in the fridge. They didn’t seem to have a problem with my attire.

    Those frumpy old maids only wished they could pull off this look. When they were my age they were no doubt overweight – and clueless about what was in style. And twenty years later, they were even more out of shape – and more out of touch with fashion trends. Why was I letting their uninformed opinions bother me?

    For a few moments, I felt so silly for worrying about it that I let out a chuckle. But then it hit me. With Barb on injury leave, Linda and Harriet were now the two teachers with the most seniority at this school. Both had been here for more than fifteen years. If they had an issue with some newbie and took it to the school board...

    Shit! That wouldn’t be good. I realized that I needed to talk to them. I had to make sure this didn’t escalate and become something bigger. At the same time, I wanted to let them know how I felt. Taking a jab at me behind my back wasn’t professional. In fact, it was rude. And was it just my outfit they didn’t like? Maybe they didn’t like me!

    “Stop it, Amber!”

    My gaze shifted around the room. Did I say that out loud? None of the four people in the room were looking at me like I was insane, so I must have said it internally. Thank God!

    I took several deep breaths, and told myself it was going to be okay. Linda was almost always in the break room during fifth period. I would be able to speak with her then. And I could catch up with Harriet before the end of the day.

    Having eased my mind, I grabbed my phone to check emails. I noticed the time and decided to head back to my small office. As I stood up, I spied the young pretty teacher sitting a few tables away. She was talking in a soft voice to someone on her cell phone, but she smiled toward me with a certain glint in her eyes. Was she checking me out too? I shook my head and proceeded toward the door. I needed to stop letting my imagination get the best of me!

    During my morning classes, the boys were more attentive than ever. I guess my outfit was more provocative than I thought. Of course, I continued my habit of standing in front of my desk, resting my backside on it, and then crossing one ankle over the other – while slipping my foot in and out of my shoe. I’m sure that helped keep their focus on me.

    It didn’t even seem to faze them that many had received poor grades on the quiz sheets I handed out at the beginning of each period. Well, the girls weren’t happy about it. I don’t think the boys noticed their scores.

    I then ate lunch with the usual cast of soon-to-be-middle-aged married men. They had loosened up after their initial trepidation about talking to a beautiful woman, and it turned out they were super-nice – with great senses of humor. It was wonderful to be able to be myself and joke around with a group of guys, without worrying about hidden agendas.

    When the bell rang, the co-workers at my table got up to leave. I looked around the room and spotted Linda. After wishing the guys a great weekend, I walked over to where she was sitting. She was alone, so this was my chance to clear the air with her.

    At first, I made it seem like I just wanted to know how she was doing. But I then informed her that I wasn’t happy with her little dig at my clothing choices. She went pale, making it obvious that she had no idea I heard the comment. I decided to go on the offensive.

    The next ten minutes were quite uncomfortable for her, as she first backtracked and then apologized. The apology included the caveat “if I offended you”, which meant that she wasn’t taking back what she said. I pressed the issue, and she conceded that she did think my outfit was a bit too revealing for a schoolteacher – but that she also wished she had the body to wear something similar.

    By the time our conversation ended, we were back on amicable terms. I felt better about the situation, since I didn’t want to be on her bad side. That could have spelled disaster for my future teaching chances at not only this school – but the entire district. I still had to talk to Harriet later; however, I was confident that I would settle things with her in the same way.

    Upon entering my AP English classroom a short while later, the voices I had heard from a distance went quiet. I scanned the room, but I couldn’t determine where they had come from. This had happened the previous day, and my suspicion was that the students who I had given detention to were hurling insults at Polly. To give the notion further credence, I thought I had heard someone say “dork” and another say “teacher’s pet”.

    Since I didn’t have definitive proof, I shot a death glare in the direction of those mean kids. I then looked toward Polly, who appeared rather dejected. I now had very little doubt that she was being harassed again.

    With the period about to begin, it was best to put this matter off until after class. I hoped Polly would confess to me that the bullies were giving her a hard time. Yesterday she claimed that she misplaced a book – which was why she was upset.

    But then again, I didn’t have her friend Tanya there to tell me the truth. Tanya was back in school today, having recovered from the stomach bug. She would let me know what had really happened before I stepped into the room.

    Handing out the graded papers from Wednesday’s quiz was an enjoyable experience for me. While both Polly and Tanya did well, the four brutes all failed – two of them miserably. I smirked at their shocked expressions. It almost made me laugh thinking that if they studied the material with the same enthusiasm they used to torment Polly, they would have passed with flying colors.

    Then I settled into my typical teaching position, leaning my butt on the front of the large oak desk. As I instructed the students, I engaged in my daily leg show. The usual male suspects stared at this display throughout the entire class – and so did Polly.

    She may have thought she was being discreet. Her focus always shifted to my face when I looked in her direction. But I knew she was ogling my legs. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. In fact, she seemed particularly enraptured whenever I used a stocking foot to play with my shoe.

    The bell rang to signal the end of the period, and the students began exiting. I strolled toward Polly’s desk, hopeful that I wouldn’t be shopping alone tomorrow. I also wanted to find out if she had been teased earlier.

    “Hey girls,” I said as I stopped in front of Polly and Tanya. “I was just wondering what happened before I got here today. I could swear I heard some insults being thrown in your direction.”

    They both glanced at each other, but neither said a word. I lowered my eyebrows and folded my arms.

    “Come on now.” I stared right into Tanya’s eyes. “Polly was catching flak again, wasn’t she?”

    “Um, well...” She gave a nervous look toward her friend, then let out a heavy sigh. “Okay...yeah, those jerks were calling her names.” She placed her hand on Polly’s arm. “I’m sorry, but I had to tell her.”

    Polly shook her head. “Thanks a lot. Some friend you are.”

    Tanya was about to respond, but I raised my hand to silence her.

    “Don’t be upset with her,” I said while rubbing Polly’s shoulder. “The only reason I’m asking about it is because I’m trying to help. You know that, don’t you?”

    “I guess,” she said with a shrug.

    “It’s true. And if you come with me tomorrow, I’ll prove it to you.”

    “I, uh...it’s just...”

    “She’ll go!” Tanya smiled and nodded furiously.

    “Shut up!” Polly smacked her friend’s arm and then looked at me. “I, I’m kind of busy tomorrow…”

    Tanya kicked her friend’s leg. “No she’s not! In fact, her parents will be gone all day...so she’ll just be sitting around doing nothing.”

    “Cut it out!” Polly kicked her back. “I’ve got lots of stuff to do.”

    I clamped my hands down on a shoulder of each girl. “Girls, stop fighting!” I sighed and removed my hands from them. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Polly. I’ll understand.”

    She peered up at me, and then glanced at her friend. Tanya gave her a pleading look, but didn’t say anything.

    “O-okay, Miss Nolan. I’ll, I’ll go with you.”

    “Atta girl!” Tanya patted Polly’s back and flashed me a wide grin.

    Polly still appeared to be hesitant, and she was staring at the floor. I put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at my face.

    “Are you sure about this?”

    She slowly nodded. “Y-yes, I...I’m sure.”

    I returned the nod with a smile. “Great! Let me get your address.” I retrieved my phone from my purse, and entered her information. “Perfect! I’ll be at your place around noon. Then we’ll go to the salon, followed by the outlet center.”

    “That sounds awesome!” Tanya nudged her friend and then shifted her gaze toward me. “It’s so cool that you’re helping her.”

    “Thanks, Tanya. You know, you can help too. Why don’t you come along?”

    “I wish I could,” she said with a sigh. “But my younger cousin’s birthday party is tomorrow afternoon at 1. I kinda hafta show up to that.”

    “Oh, that’s fine. Maybe next time.”

    “Definitely!” She glanced at her watch and then sprang from her seat. “Polly, we gotta run. Our next class starts in, like, a minute!”

    They both stuffed their books and papers into their bags, and started toward the doorway.

    “See you next week, Miss Nolan,” Tanya said. “And have fun tomorrow!”

    “You too, Tanya.”

    Polly turned her head toward me just before leaving the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Nolan.”

    “See you at noon, Polly. Take care!”

    Later in the evening, I was sitting at the desk in my bedroom. I had just finished reading part of another romance novel, and I began to reflect on the events of the afternoon. I was pleased to have said my piece to both Linda and Harriet. I had spoken with Harriet in her office during seventh period, and it went pretty well. She too admitted to being envious of my ability to look great in rather skimpy clothing.

    But she also warned me not to wear anything more risqué than what I currently had on, or it could cause problems for me. When I asked what that meant, she replied that if some of the parents caught wind of a young, attractive female teacher flaunting her body and acting promiscuous – they could report it to the district supervisors. And that might result in being suspended or terminated.

    She had a point. Going forward, I would have to balance my desire to be sexy with what others deemed as proper appearance for a teacher.

    On the subject of appearance, I was happy to know that Polly was allowing me to work on hers. I was looking forward to our little adventure – and what she would look like with new hair, makeup, and clothing. Also, it would give me a chance to talk to her one-on-one.

    While it would have been nice to have Tanya along, there was no way I could have brought up the one topic I needed to discuss with Polly – unless we were alone. And I had to find out for certain if my observations were correct, or if I was reading the situation wrong.

    Did Polly – my student – have an attraction to me – her teacher?

  14. #14
    Footsniffer Natsuko's Avatar
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    Damn, it always ends when it starts getting interesting, can't wait to read the shopping tour *gg*
    You Wanna Be My Bitch? SMELL MY FEET! *Ooohohohohohoho*

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJ0tx2XO5y0

  15. #15
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    Thanks, Natsuko. I promise you will enjoy that shopping trip when I post the next chapter later in the week.

  16. #16
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    It's already available at the mousepad...

  17. #17
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    Quote Originally Posted by sonicmerlin View Post
    It's already available at the mousepad...
    Hey, no cheating! ;-)

  18. #18
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    Since the cat's already out of the bag that I posted the next chapter elsewhere, I'll post it here now. The one after hasn't been written yet, so don't expect it too soon.

  19. #19
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    Saturday, January 17

    There was a smile on my face this morning as I sat up in bed, yawning and stretching. It wasn’t just because I had been able to sleep until 8:30 AM, although I loved being so well-rested. I also had a tremendous feeling of excitement, akin to a child waking up on Christmas morning.

    My anticipation for what the day might bring was evident in everything I did before leaving my apartment. I sang in the shower. I whistled while I got dressed, did my hair, and fixed my makeup. I even hummed while eating blueberry waffles. That last part wasn’t too unusual for me, since I was enjoying my favorite breakfast food.

    Up until the moment I got into my car, my focus had been on the fun activities I would be engaging in with Polly. I was looking forward to being involved in her physical transformation. But as I settled in behind the wheel, I remembered the other item on my agenda – a discussion that I wanted to have with her.

    It was a short, five-minute drive to Polly’s house. This barely gave me time to review my plan for broaching the subject of her potential sexual interest in me. On one hand, I might come off as a hypocrite if I asked her about it – since plenty of boys leered at me too. On the other hand, none of those guys had near the same wanton desire in their gaze. She wasn’t just undressing me with her eyes – she was engaging in all kinds of lascivious activities as well!

    As I pulled into her driveway, I came to the conclusion that I needed to bring it up. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, and perhaps think that I was leading her along. But the setting for this dialog needed to be right. If I was able to persuade her to have dinner with me after we finished shopping, that would be the perfect opportunity.

    I stepped onto her front porch and took a deep, calming breath. I had to push aside my anxiety regarding the potential difficult conversation. After convincing myself that everything would be fine, I rang the doorbell.

    A few moments later, the front door opened and a smiling Polly appeared.

    “Hi Polly!” I returned her smile. “How are you doing?”

    “Hi Miss Nolan.” She came out to greet me. “I’m good.” Her eyes widened as she looked me up and down. “Wow, you look...amazing!”

    “Thanks!” I glanced at my outfit, which was similar to the style I had worn all week – a white buttoned blouse, a short black skirt, white patterned stockings, and a pair of 3-inch black heels. While it may have been a bit much for a trip to the outlets, I wanted it to give Polly ideas on how to update her wardrobe.

    She gazed at what she was wearing – a green t-shirt, blue denim shorts, and brown sandals – and her expression changed to one of disappointment.

    “I’m sorry…I should have worn something nicer.”

    “Don’t worry about it. You look fine.”

    “But I can’t go out looking like this.”

    “Yes you can.”

    “But I’ll look stupid next to you! I gotta go change into something else.”

    She turned to go back into her house, but I grabbed her arm.

    “Polly, please. We have an appointment and I don’t want us to be late.”

    I heard her let out a sigh, and she spun around to face me. She seemed quite upset.

    Realizing I needed to alleviate her concerns, I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Besides, I’m the one who’s overdressed.” I gave her a light squeeze. “Nobody at the places we’re going will have a problem with what you’re wearing.”

    “Are, are you sure?”

    “Absolutely.” I patted her arm. “Now let’s head over to the salon.”

    A slight smile appeared on her face as she nodded. We began walking and I heard her gasp.

    “Wow! I love your car, Miss Nolan!”

    I chuckled. “Oh, this old thing?”

    “No way…it looks brand new!”

    She rushed over to my red convertible, acting as though it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen. I laughed at her giddiness, but it warmed my heart to witness such pure joy from her.

    “Go on,” I said to her while opening the driver-side door, “hop in!”

    Before I could even blink, she was in the passenger seat with her belt buckled. It was crazy to think she had gone from being so reluctant, to being so eager – in less than a minute.

    After I clicked my seatbelt, I giggled at her continued display of enthusiasm. I then put on my sunglasses.

    “So is this the first time you’ve ridden in a convertible?”

    “Yeah, and it’s gonna be soooo awesome!”

    “I’m glad you like it. This car was actually my mom’s for three years, and then my parents gave it to me last May when I graduated from college.”

    “Cool! I wish I had a car like this.”

    “Do you have your license?” I asked as I began backing out of the driveway.

    “Yeah, but I have to drive either my mom’s mini-van or my dad’s Volvo. And those are pretty lame.”

    “You think those are lame? You should have seen the piece of junk I used to drive.”

    I glanced over to see her confused expression, and shifted gears to proceed out of the housing development.

    “I had a gray station wagon that was practically falling apart, with like 200,000 miles on it.”

    “Really?”

    “Yup. I was a poor college student, and it was all I could afford. But somehow it held up until I graduated and got this baby.”

    “Wow, I can’t imagine you in something that ugly.”

    “Well, I did hang some pink fuzzy dice from the rear-view mirror. So that helped a little.”

    I gave her my best sarcastic smile, and she burst out laughing.

    “Oh my God, that must have looked soooo tacky!”

    “It did, but I didn’t care. When I stepped out of that thing, it didn’t matter to anyone what my car looked like.”

    There were a few moments of silence – as if Polly was contemplating my words.

    “That’s because you’re beautiful, Miss Nolan.”

    “Thanks, Polly. That’s so nice of you to say.”

    “It’s true, though. You could be a model. You’re...gorgeous!”

    She was laying it on thick. I nearly blushed with embarrassment.

    “And you’re a sweet girl.” I patted her leg. “And speaking of being gorgeous, that’s what today is all about. You may not believe it, but there’s a beautiful young woman inside of you that’s just dying to come out. And by later this afternoon, she’ll be on full display.”

    “Do, do you really think so?”

    “I do. You’re very pretty, Polly. With my help, everyone will see what I see in you.”

    I managed to glance at her as I turned the car onto Route 1. The smile on her face shone as bright as the Florida sun. It was contagious, and I found myself grinning from ear to ear.

    Several minutes later, we were on the bridge toward the mainland. I punched the gas pedal, and Polly let out a triumphant shout. With her arms raised and her hair flying in the open breeze, she looked like she was on a thrilling amusement park ride. I couldn’t help but laugh at her child-like behavior. But I had to admit, going 60 miles per hour with the top down was indeed exhilarating.

    We didn’t speak again for the next thirty minutes, as we enjoyed the beautiful views of the water while zooming across the causeway. Of course, it was unlikely we would have heard each other unless we were screaming – with how loud the sound of the wind was.

    When we neared our destination, the traffic became heavier and I was forced to drive much slower. Moments later, we were stopped at a red light. I peered over at Polly and let out a giggle.

    “You know, I wanted your hair to have a little more body. But the crazy wind-blown look may be a bit much.”

    She raised an eyebrow and then flipped down the mirror on her visor. After she saw herself, she shook her head and chuckled.

    “Yeah, that’s pretty terrible.” She grabbed her purse off the floor and unzipped it. “I better fix it.” She took out a small brush and then gazed at me. “Hey, how come your hair doesn’t look like this?”

    “Who knows?” I replied with a shrug. “Maybe it’s the curling iron I use, or the stuff I wash my hair with.”

    She nodded and began brushing her hair. “Do you use a special shampoo and conditioner?”

    “Yup, and they only sell it at the salon. It’s pretty expensive, but I’ll show it to you before we leave.”

    “Awesome! I should probably use it too, since I’ll have a new hairdo.”

    “You definitely should, as long as you can afford it.” I continued driving for a bit, and then remembered I wanted to ask Polly about dinner. “So Polly, do you want to go someplace to eat when we’re done shopping?”

    I noticed that she tilted her head as if she was considering it. “Um, okay...that sounds good.”

    “I mean, I understand if you need to get back. It’s just there’s this great Italian place near the outlets that I thought you might like.”

    “No, I, I don’t need to be home until like 10 or 11. My parents won’t be home until then anyway. And I gotta eat something for dinner.”

    “Okay, great. I didn’t want to pressure you into it, that’s all.”

    “Oh, it’s not like that. I just...didn’t expect to be eating out. But it sounds like an awesome restaurant, and I love Italian!”

    “Wonderful! And it’s definitely the best Italian food I’ve ever had.”

    “Cool...I can’t wait!”

    With that, we pulled into the parking lot and then headed into the styling salon. When I gave my name at the lobby desk, I was thankful for not encountering too much traffic. The woman told me that they only held appointments for five minutes, and we were already two minutes late.

    We first got our hair done. For me, it was a trim and adding bright red highlights. Polly had more than just a little cut off, as well as quite a bit of styling. She seemed distressed at what was happening until she saw the results in the mirror. Her once long and plain hair now had body – ending in curls just above her shoulders. It was adorable, and she loved it.

    Because she was so pleased with the hairstyle I had recommended for her, Polly agreed to the next part of our schedule. Her enthusiasm for it lasted right up until the first strip of wax was removed from her legs. I thought my hearing would be damaged from the scream she emitted. I had to hold her hand to get her through the rest of it – including the bikini area – while she gasped, whimpered, and groaned.

    As for my own waxing, it definitely didn’t tickle. But I had been through it many times before and knew what to expect. I did feel a little bad about not warning Polly; however, I suspected she would chicken out if she had been told how painful it would be.

    I then explained to her that I would be having my pubic hair trimmed, as I preferred the feel of it better when short. I also added that longer hair down there could be unsightly in a bathing suit. Given what she had just experienced, I figured she would decline to have this done. And I certainly wouldn’t have blamed her.

    To my surprise, she agreed to go through with it. I could tell she was anxious as she was taken back for this procedure, but she returned fifteen minutes later with a smile on her face.

    The final treatment at the styling salon was to have our makeup done. This was always my favorite part, and I knew right away that this was true for Polly as well. She asked many questions of the beautician while eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner and blush were applied. I was proud of her for wanting to learn about applying makeup. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t even react to having some of her eyebrow hair plucked out.

    Once everything was finished, I smiled at her wondrous expression when she saw her face and then mine in the mirror. She thought that we looked like movie stars, and I had to agree. While I was pleased with my own appearance, I could hardly believe how pretty Polly looked. I imagined that with the right outfit, she would be simply stunning.

    On our way out, she bought some of the makeup that had just been applied to her. I also pointed out the hair products that I used, and she purchased those as well. Since I was already there, I picked up some for myself too.

    Our next stop was at the nail salon, which was a minute’s drive away. We didn’t have to wait long, and we were soon seated in adjacent chairs. Polly then informed me that this was the first time she was getting a professional manicure and pedicure. I told her this would be a treat for her, but she seemed hesitant. It didn’t take long for me to determine the reason for this.

    When we were told to remove our shoes, she apologized for the way her toenails looked. Both I and the woman working on them told her not to be concerned, as we had seen much worse. She nodded and appeared to relax somewhat.

    As the nail technicians began working, I was happy that I had the foresight to leave my stockings in my purse. I had placed them there when I excused myself, just prior to the waxing at the previous salon. If I hadn’t done that, I would have needed to roll them off before my pedicure started.

    For the next twenty minutes, Polly and I talked to each other and the friendly nail technicians. I did notice Polly glancing down at my legs, and I swore that she was also looking at my feet. Then again, we were both getting our toenails painted and she was also looking at her own feet.

    While waiting for the nail polish to dry, I admired the crimson color on my fingers and toes. Polly went with a bright pink color, which looked nice on her. It matched her blush and lipstick. I then had to ask her if she would be buying any pink clothing at the outlet. She giggled and replied that I must be psychic, because she definitely planned on it.

    After using the bathroom and putting my stockings back on, I drove us to the outlet center. As we got out of the car, Polly told me she had only been to this place once before – several years ago. And she was excited to do some shopping here, since she now had some money of her own.

    She was practically skipping as we made our way to the clothing store. I laughed at yet another show of pure exuberance. It seemed to me that this was the real Polly – not the sad, apprehensive girl that had been hiding beneath so many layers of pain and humiliation – and she was a true delight to behold.

    We spent about an hour and a half in that shop. At first, Polly looked to me for fashion guidance. So I showed her the blouses and skirts that I liked, and combinations I thought went well together. Once she caught on, she kept taking clothing items into the dressing room and coming out to show me ones she was happy with. She ended up choosing seven tops and six skirts, as well as two dresses. Even I tried on a few things, and got a new outfit for myself.

    Before taking everything to the register, I told her she should buy some nice stockings to go along with her new wardrobe. She gave me a curious expression, and then informed me that she wasn’t fond of wearing pantyhose. I took a quick look around to see that nobody was near us, and then I pulled up my skirt enough to reveal the tops of my stockings. Her eyes bulged and she let out a gasp. I smiled at her reaction, thinking it was as much from how sexy it looked as it was from surprise.

    I asked her if she would be willing to wear stay-up thigh-high stockings like these, and she nodded furiously. She followed me to the section where they sold them, and I pointed to the silk ones. When she picked up a pair to look at the price, she dropped them and shook her head.

    “These are really expensive. Don’t they have other ones that are cheaper?”

    “They do,” I said with a nod, “but those don’t look or feel as good.” I grabbed a pair of nylon stockings from a nearby shelf and handed them to her. “Feel these.”

    After she ran her fingers across the material, she gave them back to me. “They feel nice.”

    “Okay, now compare that to the silk stockings.”

    “Wow,” she said as she rubbed the silk, “they feel a lot nicer.”

    “Right, so if you’re going to be wearing them all day then why not go with the ones that feel better on your legs?”

    “Yeah, I suppose.”

    She still appeared to be reluctant. I needed to give her an additional push.

    “Plus, they really do look great.” I noticed that her gaze was focused on my legs, and I gave her a flirtatious twirl. “Don’t you agree?”

    Her eyes went wide again, and she took a deep breath. “They, they do...yes.”

    “Then you should buy a few pairs. Trust me, you pay a lot less here for quality silk stockings than anywhere else.”

    “O-okay, Miss Nolan, I’ll get some.”

    During the next ten minutes, I helped her find a number of them in her size. She narrowed it down to the five she liked best – including two pairs of patterned stockings. I wasn’t surprised that the colors included pink, white, and black since they would match the blouses and skirts she had chosen earlier.

    At the checkout counter, she seemed startled by the total cost. I reminded her that it would have been more than double at a lot of other stores. She agreed with a sigh and then pulled the money out of her purse to pay for her clothing.

    Once I purchased my items, I asked her if she could afford to do some shoe shopping. I assumed she had just spent most of her cash and wouldn’t be able to. However, she told me that she definitely wanted to buy new shoes to complement her new attire – and she still had enough for at least one or two pairs.

    We placed our bags in the trunk of my car, and then began heading toward the shoe outlet. On our way, I heard my stomach grumble. This brought to mind that we would be having dinner after we were done at the next store. But then, Polly had just informed me that she was running out of money. I decided to discuss this with her.

    “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and we’ve been running around all day.”

    “Yeah, it would be nice to eat something.”

    I noticed she looked a bit dejected, no doubt because of her cash situation. So I made her an offer.

    “After we’re done at this place, I’m taking you to that wonderful little Italian restaurant I mentioned earlier. And it’s my treat.”

    She stopped in her tracks. “I, I can’t let you buy me dinner, Miss Nolan. That wouldn’t be right.”

    “It’s no problem,” I said while placing a hand on her shoulder. “Besides, it’s my fault that you’re practically broke. I mean, I kept encouraging you to buy things like makeup, hair products, and clothing. The least I can do is feed you.”

    “But I...”

    “I insist, Polly. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

    She let out a sigh and shrugged. “Well okay, if you insist.”

    I nodded and we exchanged smiles. “Great, now that it’s all settled let’s get you some new shoes!”

    When we were inside the store, I inquired about her shoe size. She was a six, a full five sizes smaller than me. I then directed her towards the high-heeled dress shoes. I had done plenty of shopping here before, so I knew which brands best combined style with comfort. I held up a black open-toe pair with three-inch heels, and she cringed.

    I raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

    “No...I mean, I-I’ve just never worn shoes with heels that high.”

    “Okay…” It didn’t take me long to find a similar pair in her size with two-inch heels. “...then how about these?” I waved them in front of her face. “They’re a bit lower.”

    “Um, yeah, I guess those are fine.” She took them from me with some hesitation and then sat down on a chair.

    Taking a seat near her, I watched as she placed the black pumps on the floor and slid her sandals off. She took a deep breath and spent so much time putting her feet into the new shoes that I thought she was scared they would bite her.

    I patted her leg. “So, do they feel alright?”

    She stared at the shoes. “Yeah, I think they fit.”

    “Well, you won’t really know unless you walk in them.”

    “Right.” She continued gazing down, and didn’t budge from the chair.

    “Polly, are you okay?”

    “Yeah, I’m…” She shook her head and then looked me in the eyes. “Can I be honest with you?”

    “Of course.”

    “Uh, well, I’ve only been in heels once in my life. It was for my older cousin’s wedding two years ago, and the shoes had a one-inch heel.”

    “Are you afraid you’ll fall down when you try to walk in these?”

    She nodded several times.

    I took her hand. “Then let me help you.” I rose and pulled her to her feet. “Just hold my hand until you get the hang of it.”

    She smiled at me and took her first tentative step. There was a wobble, and she gripped my hand tightly. The next few steps were similar, but it wasn’t long before she could walk with nary a stumble. A minute later, she let go of my hand and walked down the store aisle without a glitch. On her way back to me, there was confidence in her stride.

    “Yay!” I gave her a high-five – er, a medium-five for me since she would have never reached my hand if I held it above my head. “You look like a pro walking in those!”

    “Thanks!” She gazed down at her shoes, and back up at me with a huge grin. “I love how they look, and they’re really not that hard to walk in.”

    “Awesome! I knew you could do it. Plus, those have comfortable insoles that give great support. I’ve had no trouble wearing that brand of heels almost every day for years now.”

    “Cool,” she said as she sat down. “I’m definitely getting these.”

    Since those particular shoes were deeply discounted, she picked out a white pair – also with a two-inch heel. And at that price, I figured I could add to my shoe collection as well. So I tried on several pairs with three-inch heels, settling on the green ones that I knew would go well with the blouse I had purchased earlier.

    I took notice of Polly watching intently as I took off my old shoes and put on the new ones – and again when the process was reversed. For an instant, I wondered whether her attraction to my legs extended to my feet. But then I had also been watching when she tried on shoes to see how they looked on her, and I dismissed that thought.

    After boxing up my new pumps, I turned to face Polly. “I’m all done, so if you’re ready to leave we can pay and then head over to the restaurant.”

    “Um, well, I think I’d like to maybe get a pair of three-inch shoes...like yours.”

    “Really?” I asked as I tilted my head.

    “Yeah…I mean, you look very pretty in them. I want to try them, so I can look pretty too.”

    I sighed and placed a hand on her arm. “Polly, you are such a pretty young woman. You don’t need to walk around in shoes that are too high for you in order to convince me...or anyone else for that matter.”

    She smiled and blushed a little. “Thanks, Miss Nolan, but I really do want to see what they’re like. And, and even if I have trouble, I can practice walking in them at home before I wear them to school.”

    “Okay,” I said with a nod, “then go ahead and give them a try…as long as you have enough money to pay for them.”

    “I think so.” She dug through her purse, and moments later pulled out several bills. “This should be enough for one more pair.”

    Satisfied that she could afford them, I waited as she selected silver shoes with three-inch heels. They were very stylish, and once on her feet they looked amazing. But she nearly fell over when she stood up in them. I grabbed her hand to keep her upright, and she took small wobbly steps as she continued holding on to me. In fact, her grip was so tight it became quite painful.

    When she finally let go of me, my hand was throbbing. By that time, several minutes had gone by and her walk was still unsteady – although improved from how she started out. Another minute of rather shaky strides ended with her sitting down and taking a deep breath.

    I continued to flex my fingers to get full feeling back in them as she removed the pumps from her feet.

    “Do you still want them?” I asked. “Or are they too much trouble for you?”

    “No, I definitely want them.” She began putting her sandals back on. “They fit good, and they look awesome. I just need more practice. I’m sure in a week I’ll be able to walk in them perfectly.”

    “I’m sure you will.” I patted her leg. “And they do look fantastic on you.”

    A warm smile crawled onto her lips. “Thanks. Now I’m ready to check out so we can eat!”

    We paid for our shoes, and Polly was left with one whole dollar. I felt bad for assisting in her bankruptcy, until I saw her practically skipping out of the store. Her cheerfulness was worth every penny.

    Once we crammed our latest purchases into the trunk, we got in the car and took off toward the restaurant. During the three-minute drive, Polly was humming and bobbing her head with a big grin on her face. I couldn’t help but join in with her head-bobbing myself. It was so infectious!

    As we approached the parking lot, an idea crossed my mind. “Polly?”

    She shook her head, having been snapped out of her reverie. “Y-yes?”

    “I just had a thought. Why don’t you wear one of your new outfits into the restaurant, to sort of test it out and see how people react...before wearing it to school?”

    “Um...I, uh...but, um, where am I going to get changed?”

    I chuckled at her puzzled expression, and then patted her arm. “They have restrooms right inside the door. You can get a set of clothes from the trunk, put it in a shopping bag, and take it into the ladies’ room to change. Then you can just put your old clothes in the bag and carry it to our table.”

    “I, well, I, I guess I could.”

    “Come on, Polly. It’s not like any of your classmates are going to be here. And besides, don’t you want to show off your new image?”

    She shrugged and let out a sigh. “I, I do, but...I’m, I’m a little nervous.”

    I gave her a sympathetic smile as I pulled into a space and parked the car. “I understand, but there’s really no reason for you to be afraid. With your new hairdo, makeup, and clothing...you’ll have all the men salivating. And even some of the women, too.”

    A nervous laugh escaped her lips, and then she lowered her head. “It’s just...I don’t like being the center of attention.”

    I tried to look into her eyes, but she averted my gaze. “Polly...I think I know why.”

    She slowly lifted her head and then faced me. “You, you do?”

    “Yes, it’s because most of the attention you’ve been getting has been negative. When the kids at school gather around you, they say and do terrible things to you...right?”

    She gave me a few quick nods.

    “And you’re scared that any time a group of people focus their attention on you, they’re thinking bad thoughts about you and might even say them out loud.”

    “Yeah,” she said with another nod.

    “Well it’s going to be different this time. They’ll be watching you because of how gorgeous you look, and wishing they could either be with you...or actually BE you.”

    “Okay, um, I guess when you put it that way...”

    “So you’ll do it?”

    She rolled her eyes as she let out a deep breath, and then smiled slightly. “Yeah, I will.”

    “Atta girl! Now go pick out something to wear.”

    Two minutes later, we walked into the restaurant. Polly was holding a bag containing a pink and white blouse, a black knee-length skirt, white patterned stockings, and a pair of two-inch open-toe black pumps. I was impressed that she chose it all on her own. I had expected her to ask for my opinion on what looked best, but it seemed she had a good fashion sense when given the right wardrobe to work with.

    Before pointing her toward the women’s bathroom, I looked beyond the hostess and saw there was an empty booth near the far corner. Thinking this would be the perfect place for us to have at least a somewhat private conversation, I told Polly to meet me there when she was done changing into her new outfit.

    The hostess was kind enough to seat me at the booth I had wanted. While waiting for Polly, I ordered us each a water with lemon and some bruschetta. I then leafed through the menu, realizing it was the same as the previous time I had eaten at this place. I was glad they hadn’t changed it, because I knew what I wanted to order. After closing the menu and placing it on the table, I took a sip of water – which I damn-near choked on when I looked across the room.

    There was Polly, making her way towards me, and she was absolutely stunning. Although I had already seen her trying on the blouse and skirt, the full ensemble with the hair, makeup, stockings, and shoes was even more beautiful than I had imagined. She had gone into the bathroom as a caterpillar and emerged as a beautiful butterfly. And people were taking notice. I swore I saw a few jaws drop. Mine certainly did!

    I was still shaking my head in awe when she sat down across me. Her transformation was almost magical. Although she wore a nervous smile, there was no doubt this young women could have anything or anyone she wanted. Surely her days of being ridiculed would be over once her classmates caught sight of the new Polly.

    She cocked her head as I continued staring at her. “Miss Nolan, is something wrong?”

    I blinked myself out of my stupor. “No, no, not at all. I, I just can’t believe it’s really you. You look...amazing!”

    “I do?”

    “Oh my God, yes! I mean, I always thought you were pretty. But now...” I didn’t even have the words to finish the sentence, and resumed shaking my head.

    She blushed and then giggled. “Wow, I didn’t think I looked THAT good. But I’ll never be as pretty as you, Miss Nolan. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

    “I don’t know about that, Polly. I’m pretty sure you’d beat me in a beauty contest right now.”

    Before she could respond, our server arrived to bring us our waters and bread. He asked to take our order, and since Polly hadn’t even glanced at her menu, I started to tell him we needed more time. But Polly said she would have whatever I was having, since she was aware that I had been here before and figured I knew what was good. So I ordered their famous carbonara for both of us.

    After our server left, I smiled at Polly. “You’ll love their carbonara. It’s to die for!” I then picked up a piece of bruschetta. “And this is fantastic too.”

    While I took a bite, I watched as she grabbed a piece and put it on her side plate. The bruschetta was as delicious as I had remembered, and I went in for another bite.

    Polly sipped her water and then met my gaze. “Miss Nolan, do you really think I’m beautiful?”

    I swallowed the food in my mouth and placed a hand on top of hers. “Absolutely! Didn’t you look at yourself in the mirror before you came out of the bathroom?”

    “Well, yeah but...I, I don’t...see myself that way.” She lowered her head and looked down.

    I took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. “Polly, look at me.” I waited for five seconds until she complied. “You are an incredible young woman, inside and out. I’ve known that since I first met you, and you need to believe it too. And with this fabulous makeover, everyone will see you for who you really are...a beautiful and wonderful person.”

    She bit her lip and put her other hand on top of mine – holding it firmly. I could see her eyes welling up.

    “You’re so kind to me, Miss Nolan.” A tear ran down her cheek. “I, I don’t deserve it.”

    “Yes, you do.” I gave her hand another squeeze. “Please don’t let the opinions of a few jerks make you think less of yourself. You’re a remarkable young woman. The reason they put you down is because they’re jealous. They only wish they were as smart and amazing as you.”

    She sniffled, and an endearing smile appeared on her face. “Thanks...I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

    I smiled in return. “I’m so glad I can help, Polly.” I felt her hand being removed from mine, and watched as she wiped the tears from her face.

    “I’m sorry for getting all...blubbery.” She blew her nose into her napkin.

    “We all get emotional sometimes. Don’t worry about it.” I then glanced at the bruschetta I was still holding. “Not to change the subject, but have you tried this yet?” I asked as I waved it in her direction.

    “No,” she said while picking up her piece, “but it looks yummy.”

    For the next few minutes, we didn’t say much to each other as we were too busy chowing down every morsel of bruschetta in the basket. “Mmmmm” was about the only sound Polly made, clearly enjoying the appetizer. It was also obvious that she had been just as hungry as me.

    Eating all of that bread made us thirsty, and we each finished our waters. Within seconds, our waiter appeared and refilled our glasses. He then let us know that our main course would be arriving in five minutes.

    The moment he was out of earshot, I picked up on our earlier conversation. “So Polly, I hope you had fun today. I definitely did.”

    “It was awesome, Miss Nolan. You’re, like, the coolest teacher in school!”

    I giggled and took a sip of water. “And I think you’re going to be the coolest student in school...dressed in fabulous new clothes with a marvelous hair style, a spectacular manicure, and very alluring makeup.”

    She batted her eyes while doing an exaggerated model pose, and then she burst out laughing. I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

    When the laughter abated, I cleared my throat. “I can’t wait to see the reaction of the kids in English class on Monday. They might not even recognize you.”

    “Yeah, I guess.” Her cheeks reddened a bit, and she took a drink of her water.

    “I mean, you are going to wear one of your new outfits to school...right?”

    “Well yeah, but...” She paused and took a deep breath. “...do you really think this will help? Will those bullies stop picking on me?”

    I grabbed her hand. “Trust me, you look absolutely stunning. Those bullies – and everyone else in school – will be too shocked by your magnificence to say or do anything mean to you. Your biggest concern will be to avoid slipping on the puddles of their drool as you walk by.” We both chuckled at my last comment, but I had meant every word of it.

    “You know what? You’re right.” Her expression and tone became more confident. “I think I am looking forward to how everyone will react on Monday.”

    “That’s the attitude!”

    “Yeah, and even though I’m not really used to wearing heels and skirts, I’ll make sure I get the hang of it by then.”

    “You go girl!”

    “In fact, I have a nice necklace that I only ever wore to that wedding. It would probably go great with my new look.”

    “I bet it will!” I was practically cheering for her. The only thing missing was pom-poms.

    She giggled at my over-exuberance, but I didn’t care that I was making a fool of myself. This version of Polly deserved a ticker-tape parade!

    Just then I noticed our server making his way towards us holding two plates. “Ooo,” I said while tipping my head in his direction, “here comes our dinner.”

    The food was placed in front of us, and our server asked if we needed anything else. Seeing Polly shrug, I replied that we were good. He said he would check back with us later, and left us to our meal. The carbonara looked and smelled incredible, and I was anxious to dig in.

    Polly licked her lips and picked up her fork. “I never had this before, but I can’t wait to try it.”

    “Go for it,” I said as I also grabbed my fork. “È delizioso!”

    We both began eating, and indeed it was scrumptious. While she savored her first bite, Polly closed her eyes and let out a pleasurable moan.

    She then looked at me with a smile. “Wow, this is...”

    “Orgasmic?” I couldn’t resist after the sound she made.

    Her eyes went wide. “Um, uh...”

    “I’m kidding!”

    “Oh,” she said with a chuckle, “but, uh, it really is, like, totally amazing.”

    “Definitely!” I ate another forkful and smacked my lips together. “And speaking of amazing, it’s been so nice to spend time with you away from the classroom.” I placed my free hand on top of hers. “You know, I don’t just think of you as my student, Polly. You’re also my friend.”

    “Really?” she asked with her mouth full.

    “Really.”

    She swallowed the food, and took a drink of water. “I, I want to be friends with you too, Miss Nolan.”

    “Then don’t be so formal. You can call me Amber outside of school.”

    “O-okay, um, Amber.”

    I could tell she was uncomfortable, because her gaze lowered and she fidgeted while using my first name. She had probably never been friends with a teacher before.

    “That’s better. And we should do this again soon. I like having a shopping buddy.”

    “Yeah, I’d love to go shopping again with you Miss...I mean, Amber.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I’ll just need to save up more money.”

    “Do you have a job?”

    “Not yet,” she said with a sigh. “My parents want me to look for a part-time job. They say I need to learn to be responsible, or something like that.”

    “I think that’s a great idea. And I’ll help if you want me to.”

    “You would do that for me?”

    “Of course! What are friends for?”

    We giggled and then had a few more bites of our carbonara. While eating, I remembered that I needed to broach the subject of her potential attraction to me. But I had to handle it delicately.

    I cleared my throat to get her attention. “Now that I consider you a good friend, I can discuss something with you that I’ve noticed since I started teaching full-time.”

    “Okay, sure.”

    “It seems like all the guys at school, and I’m talking both students and teachers, keep gawking at my legs. Have you noticed this too?”

    “Um, yeah, I guess.”

    I saw that she was squirming a bit, but I needed to press on. “And I’ve even seen a few girls staring as well.”

    Her gaze shifted away from mine, and I heard her gulp. “Oh, uh, really? I, I didn’t notice.”

    My eyes narrowed and I looked at her intently. “Hmmm, that’s interesting. Because you’re one of the girls I was referring to.”

    There was suddenly a bewildered expression on her face. “Me? No, I, I swear! I wasn’t!”

    “Tell me the truth, Polly,” I said as I cocked my head and lowered my eyebrows.

    She took a deep breath and looked down. “O-okay…yes, but…” She lifted her head and met my gaze. “…but I was just admiring your stockings. I mean, you, you offered to take me out to buy new clothes. So, so, I needed to figure out if, if I wanted to wear stockings like yours.”

    I smirked at her, impressed with the excuse she came up with. It would have been quite believable if she hadn’t stammered her way through it like a nervous criminal trying to make up an alibi on the spot. And she had perhaps the worst poker face of all time.

    “Is that right?” I stabbed a piece of food on my plate. “So it wasn’t because you find me attractive?” I continued staring at her while I lifted my fork to my mouth.

    “No, I mean, well, of c-course you’re attractive, but I, I’m not, um...”

    While her red cheeks and panicky stuttering were adorable, it was time for me to throw her a lifeline. I reached over and took her hand.

    “Polly...it’s okay that you’re attracted to me. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” I gave her hand a light squeeze, and continued in a soft voice. “In fact, I have a confession to make. I’m bisexual, so I like girls too.”

    Her eyes went wide and she gasped. “You, you do?”

    “Yes indeed. And there’s an interesting story behind it.”

    I proceeded to reveal the details of how I came to discover the pleasures of being with a woman, while we both continued enjoying our dinner. I told her that prior to my junior year at the University of Miami, I had a boyfriend and at that point I only ever considered being with guys. But then I met Violet, who was my beautiful roommate during the last two years at U of M. She had seduced me one drunken evening, and I liked it – a lot. I even mentioned that Violet was an expert at giving oral sex, which caused Polly’s cheeks to turn crimson. I ended my spiel by lamenting having lost touch with Violet after graduation.

    “Wow,” Polly said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, “it sounds like you, um, had some, uh, interesting experiences at college.”

    “Oh yes,” I said with a giggle. “It was very educational...in more ways than one.” I swallowed my last bit of food. “But let’s get back to the subject of your attraction to me.”

    “But, but I-I’m not…”

    “Seriously?” I asked as I raised an eyebrow.

    She maintained eye contact for a few moments. Then her shoulders slumped as she dropped her head.

    “Like I said, Polly, I don’t have an issue with you being attracted to me or liking girls.” I leaned over to pat her cheek and she raised her head.

    “It’s, it’s true,” she said in quiet voice. “I, I’m attracted to you.”

    I gave her a warm smile. “There, was that so hard to admit?”

    She let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, kind of. I mean, it’s, uh, pretty weird to tell another woman…especially my own teacher...that she’s, like, totally hot...and stuff.”

    “I understand, and I’m glad you told me. But here’s the thing. While I’m extremely flattered, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to date one of my students. You get that, right?”

    “Oh, right...of, of course.” Her attempt to sound and act nonchalant was pretty weak.

    “Polly,” I said in my most sympathetic tone, “don’t be upset. You’re an attractive, intelligent young woman with a lot to offer. Any girl would consider themselves lucky to be with you.”

    I looked into her eyes, and over the next few moments I saw her disappointment fading.

    She nodded with a slight grin. “Thanks. You’re the first person I’ve confessed to about being, um, a les...“ She lowered her voice to a whisper. “...a lesbian.”

    “You mean you haven’t told your parents?” I asked quietly. “Or Tanya?”

    She shook her head. “I, I don’t want them to hate me.”

    “Why would they hate you?” I took one of her hands in both of mine. “Look, I know it’s difficult to come out to family and friends. I was scared to death to tell my parents that Violet was my girlfriend. But I worked up the courage to explain it to them, and they ended up being fine with it.”

    “Do, do you really think they’d understand...if, if I told them?”

    “Well, I don’t know your parents personally. But if they love you, they should definitely accept your sexuality.” I patted her hand to reassure her. “As for Tanya, I would bet anything she’d be cool with it.”

    “I, um, I don’t know Miss Nolan.”

    “Amber.”

    “Right...Amber. I, um...” She let out a heavy sigh. “...I just need some time to think about it.”

    “That’s fine. I didn’t tell my folks right away. It took me a while to come up with the right words to say.” I gripped her hand tighter. “Just promise me you won’t take too long.”

    “I, I won’t.”

    “Good.” I smiled and pulled my hands away.

    We each drank some water, and our server came to take the empty plates away. He asked if we wanted anything else. Polly shook her head, and I replied that we would like the check.

    After he left, a thought occurred to me. “So Polly, I assume you’ve never been on a date with a girl.”

    “No, not yet.”

    “Maybe I can help set you up with a nice young woman.”

    “You, you could?”

    “I could try. Lord knows it’s been a while since I’ve been out on one. I figure as long as I’m going to try my hand at dating again, I can also be on the lookout for you.”

    “That...that would be awesome.” Her huge grin made me smile, and then she laughed. “It’s kind of funny.”

    I must have looked completely confused, and she giggled again.

    “It’s just that the whole day today has been sort of like a date. I mean, you picked me up, took me out for a makeover and shopping, and treated me to dinner at a nice restaurant.”

    “Yeah,” I said with a chuckle, “you’re right. But it was just one friend doing something nice for another.”

    “I know,” she said with a hint of melancholy in her voice.

    Our check arrived and after I paid, we were soon back in the car and on the road toward Key Largo. As the cool breeze washed across our faces, countless stars and an almost full moon shone above us. I had always loved to drive on the causeway after sunset, and this was no exception. Several times I spied Polly marveling at the night sky, as if it was the first time she had ever seen it look this way. She was simply the perfect picture of youthful innocence and wonder.

    When I turned onto Polly’s street some time later, I noticed the clock in my car read 9:00 PM. I could see that Polly was yawning and stretching. It had been quite a long day for her.

    “Did I wear you out?”

    “No, no...well, okay, maybe a little.” She giggled, as did I.

    “At least you’ll sleep like a baby tonight. And we did have a lot of fun today.”

    “Oh yeah, for sure!”

    I pulled into the driveway and shifted the gear into park. “Well, I’m really glad that we had such a wonderful day...and that I got you home in good time.” I smiled and patted her leg. “Also, you can trust that I won’t mention a word to anyone about our dinner conversation.”

    “Thanks. And, and I won’t repeat anything you told me Miss...um, Amber.”

    “I know you won’t. Just promise me you’ll talk to your parents and Tanya within the next few months.”

    “I, I will,” she said with a nod. “I promise.”

    “Great. Now, do you need help carrying your stuff into the house?”

    “Yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind.”

    “Not at all.” I took the key out of the ignition and we both stepped out of the car.

    It turned out she really did require my assistance. By the time we took all of her bags and boxes from the trunk, our hands were completely full. I followed her to the door, and she fumbled with the key while trying to juggle the things she was holding. She managed to get it open, and flip on the light in the foyer. After she set down her items, she took what I was carrying from me and placed those down near the same spot.

    “Miss, ugh, I keep forgetting. I mean, Amber, can I, um, offer you dessert and something to drink?”

    “Oh, uh, that’s okay. I don’t want to impose and besides, I’ve taken up so much of your day already.”

    She then grabbed my hand. “No really, you have to try my mom’s apple cake. She just made it yesterday, and there’s plenty left. I mean, it’s the least I can do after you bought me dinner.”

    I could see that she was almost desperate to repay my kindness, so I relented. “Alright, sure. I’ll have a piece of cake and, um, do you have any decaf coffee?”

    “We sure do. Would you like milk or sugar in it?”

    “A little milk, if you don’t mind.”

    “Yeah, no problem.” She then signaled toward the adjacent room. “Go ahead and sit anywhere you want. I’ll be right back.” With that, she kicked off her shoes and rushed toward her kitchen.

    Figuring that it was a house rule not to walk on the carpeting wearing shoes, I also removed mine and walked into the living room. I had already seen from the outside that she lived in a nice-sized home, but both her foyer and living room were more impressive than I expected. In fact, my entire apartment would have almost fit into those two areas alone.

    I settled myself onto one end of the large leather sofa, and could see numerous paintings on the wall. Clearly, her parents were art collectors and they had fine taste. It became clear to me how Polly had enough money for our shopping trip, even without being employed.

    It couldn’t have been more than another minute before Polly returned, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a small plate with a slice of cake along with a fork in the other.

    She handed the food and beverage to me with a smile. “Here,” she said as she produced a coaster from a holder on the end table close to where I sat, “you can put your cup down on this.” She placed the coaster within my reach, and then took a seat next to me on the couch.

    “Thank you so much, Polly.” I set my coffee down. “Mmmm,” I said as I sniffed the cake, “this smells wonderful. And it looks yummy too.”

    “It’s the best! My mom loves to bake, and she’s really good at it.”

    I took a bite, and it melted in my mouth. She was right; it was the best cake I had ever tasted.

    “Wow, this is fantastic! Your mom should open a bakery!”

    “I know!” she said with a giggle. “I tell her that all the time. But she keeps saying it would be too much work.”

    “Well, she could make a fortune if she ever decided to sell her apple cake. People would pay a lot for it. I know I would!”

    “Cool! I’ll have to tell her how much you like it.”

    I ate another forkful and then realized Polly hadn’t gotten anything to eat or drink for herself. “So, um, don’t you want some dessert too?”

    “No, I’m good. Besides, I’ll probably have some for breakfast tomorrow.”

    “Oh okay,” I said with a nod. “I’d eat it for breakfast too, if I were you. In fact, I’m sure it would be part of my lunch and dinner as well. God knows how much weight I’d gain if I had this cake around all the time!”

    We both laughed, and I dug back into my dessert. I polished it off in record time – it was just too delicious to savor!

    Polly chuckled in amazement as I scraped the last crumbs from my plate. “That was fast! I guess you were hungry!”

    I rubbed my stomach. “I’m stuffed, actually. But that was simply divine.”

    She nodded, then stood up and held a hand out. “Let me take your plate and fork.”

    “Thanks!” I gave them to her and reached for my cup.

    She scampered away and I took a sip of my beverage. The flavor was amazing. No doubt they had expensive taste in coffee – just like everything else, it seemed.

    Moments later Polly was back in the room. She stopped in front of me, and looked down. It appeared she was gazing at my stocking feet.

    “I, um, just noticed that you took your shoes off. You really didn’t have to.”

    I swallowed my coffee and smiled. “It’s no big deal. I just thought when I saw you remove your shoes, it was something that everyone did in your house. And besides, it does feel better to have them off after walking around in them all day.”

    “Oh, okay.” She then cocked her head with a concerned expression on her face. “Do your feet hurt?”

    “A little, but not too much.”

    “Well, the reason I’m asking is, uh, because I could, um, massage them for you...I mean, if you want.”

    I blinked and shook my head, trying to determine if I heard what I thought I did. It sounded like she had just offered me a foot rub.

    “You want to...rub my feet? Really?”

    She seemed flustered and took a step back. “I, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just, um, you’ve been so great to me and you said that, uh, your feet hurt a little. And, and I’ve done it for my mom and for Tanya a bunch of times. They told me I’m like, pretty good at it. So, I, um, thought you might enjoy it too.”

    Stalling for time, I rubbed my chin to consider her offer. I needed to sort this out in my head. I had already confirmed during dinner that she was attracted to me, and this activity could have been a ploy to seduce me. Then again, she did say that she had done this for her mother and best friend. And a foot massage sounded pretty good to me at that moment.

    I stared into her eyes. It appeared her intentions were pure. Also, I hadn’t detected any lascivious intent when she brought it up. I decided what the hell – why not indulge myself a little?

    “Sure, I’d love to have a foot massage...I mean, if you don’t mind.”

    In the blink of an eye, she was sat on the floor directly in front of me. Once more, I was surprised.

    “Polly! Why are you down there?”

    “Oh, I always sit on the floor when I do this. Just relax and enjoy your coffee.”

    “Um, okay...if you’re sure.”

    “I’m sure.”

    I lifted my cup to my mouth as Polly took hold of my right foot. As the coffee pleasantly stimulated my taste buds, I felt fabulous sensations on the sole of my foot. I let out a slight moan and smiled down at Polly. She smiled back at me, and continued her ministrations.

    For the next five minutes, I sipped the rest of my coffee while simultaneously receiving the most amazing foot massage I had experienced in my life. I had only gotten a handful of them from a past boyfriend, but he was terrible by comparison. Polly seemed to know exactly what she was doing. The amount of pressure she applied and the exact spots she rubbed convinced me that she had a future career as a masseuse.

    Placing my cup on the end table, I sank back into the coach. “Mmmmm, this is heavenly. You really are an expert at this.”

    “Thank you. Should I do your other foot now?”

    “Please!”

    She let go of my right foot and picked up my left. She then began kneading it the same way, and it felt incredible. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations. It was total bliss! I almost laughed at myself for having any misgivings about letting her do this to me. No wonder her mom and Tanya wanted this treatment from her so often. She was no doubt better than most professionals.

    My complete relaxation had me on the verge of drifting off to sleep, when suddenly I detected something odd. Amidst the feeling of her thumbs pressing into my sole, I also felt air blowing on my toes. I opened my eyes just enough to see what was going on, and I received the shock of my life.

    There sat Polly, with her hands wrapped around my left foot, and her eyes closed. She was leaning down with her nose positioned a fraction of an inch above my toes, and she was taking sniffs – long and deep ones. But this wasn’t even what stunned me the most. It was the look of unbridled lust on her face. She was getting sexual pleasure from smelling my foot!

    This scene was so unbelievable and crazy to me that I couldn’t utter a sound. I just sat there motionless for another minute while I watched her sniff my toes. And surely, my toes had to have quite a foul odor as my feet had been sweating rather profusely in my shoes all day.

    All kinds of questions went through my mind. What kind of pervert was she? Did she really get off on smelling women’s stinky feet? Did she plan all this in advance? Was that why I had seen her looking at my feet?

    Before I could summon the will to say anything, she stopped sniffing and opened her eyes. When her gaze met mine, she dropped my foot. Her face became panic-stricken, and her cheeks turned beet red.

    “Oh my God,” she said as she jumped up from the floor. “I’m, I’m, so sorry!”

    I kept staring at her with wide eyes, unable to form words. She looked like a gazelle that had been dropped in a lion’s den. I don’t think I’d ever seen a more frightened expression than hers, and it seemed like she was on the verge of feinting. I needed to pull myself together, and discuss what just happened.

    “Oh God, please, don’t, don’t be mad.” She was almost hyperventilating. “I, I can explain!”

    “Polly, calm down.” I reached out to take her hand but she backed away from me.

    “It’s, it’s not what it looked like!” She took several frantic breaths, as she continued to fidget. “I, I was uh, just curious about, um, the smell. Th-that’s all!”

    “Polly!” I gave her a stern look and folded my arms. “Settle down and take deep breaths. You’ll pass out if you don’t get yourself under control.”

    She nodded and closed her eyes. A minute later, after her breathing had calmed somewhat, I stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, and they began filling with tears.

    “Y-you must hate me, M-miss Nolan. Or, or think I’m some kind of freak.” She sniffled as tears ran down her cheeks.

    “I don’t hate you, Polly. But I would like an explanation for why you were smelling my toes.” I then took a firm grip of her shoulder. “And I mean a real one, not some lame excuse.”

    She took a deep breath and dried her face with her hand. “Um, well, y-you know I, I like g-girls.”

    “Yes, we’ve established that.”

    “R-right, and I-I think you have very p-pretty legs.”

    “Okay...”

    “A-and I a-also think y-your f-feet are pretty, t-too.”

    I nodded. “Alright, but that doesn’t explain why you were smelling my foot.”

    “I, I know. It’s just, I, I’m r-really attracted to, to l-legs and f-feet...es-especially in s-stockings.”

    I stared into her eyes and she looked down. This was clearly hard for her, but I needed to know the whole truth.

    “Do my legs and feet turn you on, Polly?”

    “Yes,” she said in a thin whisper.

    “Is that why you wanted to sniff my foot?”

    She nodded.

    “And did you like the smell?”

    She glanced up at me with a dismayed expression, and nodded again.

    “So let me get this straight. You are into stocking legs and feet, and actually get turned on by the smell of my stinky feet.”

    Her head went down again, and she didn’t reply. I knew she was ashamed, but I let my outrage about the situation get the best of me.

    “I can’t believe it,” I said as I removed my hand from her shoulder and stepped back. “You lured me – your own teacher – into your living room tonight with dessert, just so you could act out your depraved fantasies on my feet. You took advantage of me, Polly! And after everything we talked about earlier!”

    She dropped to her knees, put her face in her hands, and began weeping. I stood and glared down at her for several moments, feeling not one ounce of pity. She used me – plain and simple. I had every right to be upset at her, and I was positive that she deserved every caustic word in my diatribe. It was only when she removed her hands from her face and I saw her expression of complete anguish that I realized I had been too hard on her.

    “I-I’m so s-sorry,” she said between sniffles, “p-please forg-give me.”

    I sat down in the floor next to her and gently guided her head onto my shoulder. She continued crying as I patted her head softly.

    “I’m the one who should apologize for lashing out at you, Polly. The whole thing just caught me off guard. I, I didn’t expect you to offer me a foot rub, and I certainly never imagined that anyone would want to smell my feet.”

    She tilted her head to gaze into my eyes. “I, I know, and I’m s-sorry. I, I n-never should have d-done any of th-that. I, I don’t know w-what happened to m-me.”

    “Well, I suppose those desires of yours got away from you.”

    “Yeah,” she said with a sniffly chuckle, “s-something like that.”

    “Look, I’m not mad at you. But I’m still kind of in shock.” I took my hand from her head and she removed her head from my shoulder. “I just need some time to process all this.”

    She rubbed the tears from her eyes. “O-okay, Miss Nolan.”

    I decided not to correct the way she addressed me, especially since I now had concerns about having any type of relationship with her beyond merely student and teacher.

    I stood up and waited for her to do likewise. “It’s been quite an eventful day, but I think it’s best for me to leave.”

    She looked at me with sad eyes – bloodshot from crying – and nodded. She then followed me as I walked into the foyer and slipped my shoes on. I then felt her tap my arm, and I gazed down at her.

    “Please...d-don’t tell anyone a-about this...please.” The desperate look on her face matched the tone of her request.

    “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

    She let out a huge sigh. “Th-thank you, M-miss Nolan.”

    “Alright then,” I said as I glanced toward the door. “I gotta be going, but I’ll see you on Monday.”

    “S-see you Monday.”

    I opened the door and then turned my head toward her. “Good night, Polly.”

    “G-good night.”

    Just before I stepped outside, I saw another tear slide down her cheek. The door shut behind me as I proceeded toward my car. Once inside, I sat there with my hands on the wheel for a few minutes. My mind was still reeling from what had happened in Polly’s house, and I was having trouble functioning – never mind trying to drive!

    I somehow managed to arrive at my apartment safely, in spite of being in a daze. I dropped my bags inside the door, plopped down on my sofa, and stared at the ceiling for God knows how long. I think I was expecting a sign to appear above me – telling me how to handle this situation. But all I could see was white paint.

    It was after midnight by the time I shuffled into my bedroom and sat down at my desk. There was so much going on in my head. What had been such a fabulous day with a student that I considered my friend ended in a scene straight out of some bizarre freak-show movie. And I truly didn’t know how to deal with it.

    What would I even say the next time I saw Polly? I needed to come up with something by Monday morning. I just wasn’t sure if I could.
    Last edited by OneAuthor; 07-08-2017 at 12:46 PM.

  20. #20
    Fledgling Footsniffer Beckysfootslave1's Avatar
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    Mar 2016
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    Definitely worth the wait, that was awesome. Your endings always leave me wanting more haha

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