The Teacher's Pet Ch. 01

Author's Note: This story has a slow build-up, with the initial focus more on character development than kinkiness. However, there will eventually be scenes that should hopefully reward your patience.

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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 which 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 a girl sitting next to me in class how to write a sentence 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. The 'cool' kids labeled me as a nerd and a geek. I suppose my appearance had something to do with it too. 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 had fully blossomed.

The verbal and physical bullying I lived through for being a 'plain Jane' and a 'know-it-all' was 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 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!

After some awkward and painful years, my body developed nicely. By the start of my senior year in high school, I had filled out my nearly six-foot frame. 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 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 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 instructor practically drooled all over himself as he tried to stop staring at me. I'm sure the 'A' that I received for the final semester had nothing to do with my actual test and assignment grades.

I made my parents proud of their only child when I received a full 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 part of the 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 into my panties - or perhaps my bra. It was probably both, since I wore one of my most revealing outfits.

Because being a substitute was no guarantee of receiving steady income, I took a part-time shift as a waitress at a local bar and grill. It wasn't too bad, especially since I worked evenings and drunk guys ogling their pretty servers tended to tip well. But while it 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 a rather unfortunate situation. I received a call on December 30th from an administrator, telling me the twelfth-grade English teacher, Barbara Anderson, was injured in a bad skiing accident.

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 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 real teaching gig. What I didn't realize at the time was exactly how much my life would change and make me the woman I am today. My initial writings were about the events that took place inside the classroom, but soon shifted to cover a lot of 'extra-curricular' activities.

I have 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 which 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 I didn't even know existed.

For anyone who reads this, I hope they do 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 - 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!

* * *

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 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 thin enough to allow my lacy pink bra to 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 three-inch black heels.

After a cup of coffee and a healthy breakfast, I was energized for the day. As I did my hair and makeup, I went over my schedule. I would be teaching all three twelfth 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 by 7:30 and went toward the offices. It was nice to be greeted warmly by a few of the teachers and principal 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 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 because I was being treated so nicely, or knowing I wasn't only 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 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 being a full-time teacher as well. I resumed checking over my notes while thinking 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 appear before a roomful of students as their teacher. I wouldn't be 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 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 wasn't like I'd never 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 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 the 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 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 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 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 them 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 you treat me and each other properly. I don't want to see fighting, or anyone being picked on. It also means 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 this little speech a hundred times in my head. The stunned expressions on my students' faces as they collectively nodded were a clear indication I had delivered it exactly 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. 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, blah blah blah. I had to cut him off - informing him 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. My threat to give out extra homework to anyone who didn't behave appeared to have gotten through to them, because I only twice had to pause and glare in the direction of whispering - putting an immediate stop to it.

What pleased me the most was witnessing the students being engaged. They seemed interested in everything I was teaching them. In fact, each time I asked a question - multiple hands went up. One of them even challenged a point made by another student. This made me want to pinch myself!

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. This 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 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 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 which 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 a number of teachers were already there. I grabbed my chicken salad, and was signaled by one of 'my colleagues' 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. Although 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. The tension was broken, and the remainder of our time together was a much more relaxed atmosphere.

In fact, they became rather flirtatious. Of course, it might have had something to do with me. Ever since my first year at college, I'd been known to be touchy-feely when I was 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 at one of their comments.

The 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 another thirty years?

As I rose from my seat and turned to leave, I saw the 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 decided to head over to the classroom early. If my memory served me right, the room would be empty.

Since I had a little over twenty minutes to kill, I continued reading the latest romance 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 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 who were getting their jollies at someone else's expense. I wasn't about to allow this disgrace to continue!