The Teacher's Pet Ch. 03

Author's Note: This builds upon the events of the previous chapters. I would recommend reading them first, before diving into this chapter.

*****

Tuesday, January 20

I scooped the last of the Honey Nut Cheerios from my cereal bowl. There were four of them in my spoon, all floating in milk. They looked so serene, as if they were spending their day on the lazy river without a care in the world. I was jealous of them, and wished with all my heart that I could join in – right up until I put them in my mouth, chewed them, and swallowed them.

At least they tasted good, even if their fate was rather traumatic. Then again, they didn't have to deal with the fallout from an incident with a perverted student. Maybe I did envy my soon-to-be-digested breakfast.

On my way into work, I reflected on the previous forty-eight hours. It was almost a miracle I had been able to drag myself out of bed on Sunday morning, as all I'd wanted to do was hide under the covers and pretend nothing had happened. I was on the verge of cancelling my normal lunch plans, but forced myself to go at the last moment. Even though I didn't say much and must have seemed distant, it was nice to spend time with my mom and dad.

The rest of the day, I sat at my computer. There were other things I could have done, such as checking over my lesson plan for the upcoming week and grading homework. However, those weren't as important to me as researching why a person would become aroused by feet – and in particular, stinky feet.

It hadn't occurred to me there was something called a 'foot fetish'. Perhaps I had lived a sheltered life, but I never knew until I began my internet search there was so much dedicated to feet. I don't think I blinked one time as I stared at page after page of pictures, videos, and stories about soles, heels, and toes. There were dozens of sites that were chock full of things such as foot smelling, foot kissing, foot licking – and foot fucking!

Eight whole hours had passed when my continuous foot porn investigation was finally interrupted by a screaming bladder. The extreme urge to pee snapped me out of my stupor and I ran to the bathroom. As I sat on the toilet, I also realized I was hungry. And thirsty. Damn, I'd let my curiosity about Polly's fetish take over my life.

I shut off the computer and reheated my leftovers from lunch. While eating, I tried to come to grips with everything I had just seen. It was all so overwhelming. A strange new world had been opened to me – one that I didn't understand but felt compelled to venture into.

Two hours later, I laid awake on my bed. I was still attempting to comprehend this whole foot thing. However, all I ended up accomplishing was losing sleep. Since the next day was a holiday, it was more of the same. Except for a few breaks to eat, drink, and use the toilet, I did nothing but watch or read foot fetish material on my computer. Once again, my mind was spinning in so many directions, I stayed awake for much of the night.

After I arrived in the school parking lot, I took another gulp from my travel mug. The caffeine boost was necessary, considering how tired I was. I figured it would be pretty bad if I conked out before third period.

As I strolled toward my office, I walked past Linda and Harriet. They smiled and said hello, seeming friendlier than normal. It struck me as odd at first, until I glanced down and remembered the clothing I had put on this morning. My skirt was a bit below the knees, and my shoes had two-inch heels instead of three. I was sure they approved of my more conservative attire.

During lunch, I sat with the usual suspects and munched on some mixed greens. They could tell I had a lot on my mind, since I sometimes heard one of them speak my name loudly to get my attention. However, it was almost impossible for me to focus on their discussion – or anything else, for that matter. My morning classes had been a total blur. I couldn't recall whether I had taught them vocabulary, sentence structure, or the proper technique for sucking toes.

Shit, did I actually mention foot fetishism while I was teaching? It was pretty much the only thing that had been on my mind since Saturday night. What if I had let something slip without realizing it?

I shook my head in an attempt to eradicate these foolish thoughts. Self-doubt had always been my worst enemy, and I couldn't let it take control of me. I was in a room full of colleagues. I wanted them to know I was a strong, confident woman. Having a panic attack wouldn't exactly project this type of image.

The bell rang a short time later and I was thankful for getting through the period without hyperventilating. I made it back to my office, and slumped into the chair at my desk. The ticking of the wall clock got my attention, so I began watching the second hand move around gently. I felt like I was in a trance, and after a while I allowed myself to enjoy the tranquility. That's when I suddenly remembered there were precious minutes remaining until my next English class – the one with Polly!

My thoughts instantly returned to the petite girl who I had always looked forward to seeing. However, after what happened several nights ago, I was dreading the prospect of facing her. I still didn't know how I would broach the subject with her, but I couldn't ignore it either. I was certain she would be terrified to be in the same room with me, never mind speak to me.

The confusion about how to handle this situation became so overwhelming, I walked right into someone while on my way to teach sixth period English. It startled me, and I looked up to see the pretty young female teacher I often spied in the faculty break room. She started bending down to pick up her phone, which our collision had made her drop.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" I put a hand over my mouth. "I wasn't paying attention!"

She stood up straight and gave me a sheepish smile. "No, no, it's not your fault. I was looking at something on my phone and didn't see you."

I noticed she was examining her phone closely. "Is it okay? I hope it's not damaged!"

"Oh, it's fine. I drop it all the time." She chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm kind of a klutz."

I sighed with relief and smiled toward her. "I'm really glad it's not broken."

She returned my smile. "Me too." She bit her lip and glanced down the hallway. "I, I wish I could stay and chat, but I need to get going. My geometry class starts soon."

"Okay, well, I'll see you later." Before I could even finish the sentence, she had waved to me and disappeared around the corner.

It was a shame we didn't have a chance to talk longer, or even formally introduce ourselves. However, I knew there would be plenty of opportunities in the coming days. At the moment, I had other concerns. I smoothed my skirt, took a deep breath, and began heading toward my classroom.

As I slowly entered, I noticed Polly wasn't in her seat. A quick scan around the room revealed she wasn't there at all. This was quite unusual for her. I wondered if she was not feeling well, or whether she was trying to avoid me. I placed my items on the oak desk and continued contemplating this.

Certainly, I couldn't have blamed her for wanting to keep her distance from me. With what I knew about her, she had likely been traumatized for being caught smelling my foot. It made perfect sense she might fake an illness today. I even considered doing it myself. However, we would have just been postponing the inevitable.

My gaze shifted toward Tanya, who was standing near her desk chatting with another girl. I thought about asking her if she had seen Polly, but I was worried this could lead to questions. Why did I want to know? Did I have something to do with Polly being miserable? And what exactly happened on Saturday?

I shook my head and sighed. Surely Tanya knew nothing of this incident and didn't suspect there was any tension between Polly and me. Well, at least not yet. For now, the neurotic part of my brain needed to shut the hell up.

At that moment, I saw Polly appear in the room. She was almost jogging and had her head down. Before I could say anything, the bell rang to signal the start of the period. I rolled my eyes, feeling as though someone was messing with me. They had to be. Otherwise, the stupid thing wouldn't keep ringing at the most inopportune times.

Before I started my lesson for the day, I took another look at Polly. I could tell she was nervous, as she averted my gaze and fidgeted with her pen. I also saw she wasn't wearing any of her new outfits. She had on a rather drab combination of a brown long-sleeved t-shirt, black jeans, and black sneakers. It didn't even appear she had makeup on. At least her hair looked nice, and she hadn't removed the pink polish from her fingernails.

The next forty-five minutes consisted of a constant struggle to maintain my composure. I stood in front of my desk with my hands folded and attempted to teach my students – without showing my inner emotions or allowing myself to be distracted by thoughts of Polly's interest in my feet. The task was made all the more difficult every time I glanced in her direction, which happened more times than I could count.

When the bell rang again, I exhaled deeply. I was pretty sure I pulled it off, and none of the students noticed my mind was preoccupied.

I turned my head to look in Polly's direction, and she was already up from her seat. I hardly had a chance to clear my throat when she ran past me and out of the classroom. It was as if the place was on fire and she needed to escape the flames. I was stunned she was able to move so fast.

Realizing I had lost my chance to speak with her, I let out a deep breath and began to gather up my belongings. I was rather disappointed, but at the same time, somewhat relieved. I still didn't know what to say to her, and any attempt at a conversation would have likely resulted in a lot of awkward silence.

"Miss Nolan?"

Tanya's voice startled me, and I nearly dropped what I was holding. I figured she had left, like everyone else.

I spun around to face her, and noticed her expression of concern. "Tanya, is something wrong?"

"Well, I'm a little worried about Polly. She's kinda been ignoring me today."

"Oh, has she?" I tried to sound surprised, but I wondered if my anxiety was seeping out.

"Yeah, she won't even tell me how Saturday went. Did she go shopping with you?"

I gulped, knowing I had to proceed with caution. "Yes, she did. We, um, had a fun day."

Her eyebrows lowered as she tilted her head. "Soooo, nothing bad happened? Because she's been acting pretty weird."

"No, no, uh, nothing that I can, um, think of." Damn, could I have sounded any less convincing?

She looked at me with suspicion and then her eyes widened. "Something DID happen! You hafta tell me. Pleeeeease? I promise I won't say anything to Polly!"

My heart was beating fast while I tried to think of a response. She knew I was being evasive, and there was a connection between Saturday's outing and her friend's mood. Seconds felt like hours as I searched for a way to explain what would cause Polly's unusual behavior, without mentioning lesbian attraction or the whole foot episode.

In spite of Tanya's unsettling stare, I finally came up with the perfect reply.

"Okay," I said with a sigh, "I think I know what's bothering her. It's her new clothes."

"What do you mean? She's not even wearing anything new!"

"Right, but that's because she's, um, extremely nervous about what everyone will think of them."

Her brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line. "Wait, aren't they the same type of outfits you wear?"

"Yes, but she's very self-conscious. I could tell when Polly was trying them on that she was worried she wouldn't be able to pull off my look successfully."

The expression on her face changed to one of acknowledgement, and she nodded. "I guess that makes sense. She probably chickened out when she got dressed this morning, and then she was all nervous about seeing you."

"Probably," I said with a shrug.

"Well, I gotta get to my next class. Thanks for letting me know what happened."

As she began walking away from me, I thought of one more thing. "Tanya!"

She stopped in her tracks and turned her head. "Yes, Miss Nolan?"

"Remember what you said... not a word to her about our little discussion."

"Don't worry," she said with a half-smile. "You can trust me." She took a few more steps and paused in the doorway. "See ya later, Miss Nolan."

"Bye, Tanya."

When she was gone, I collapsed into the chair behind the oak desk. I was physically and mentally exhausted. On one hand, I was glad to have made it through the school day without arousing suspicion about what had occurred between Polly and me. I even survived a grilling from Tanya! On the other hand, nothing had been resolved, and Polly seemed determined to avoid speaking with me at all costs.

It was another twenty minutes before I could gather the energy to trudge out of the room. When I made it to my apartment, I decided to try to push the whole foot thing aside and focus on school-related activities. It worked for a while, and I was able to create quizzes for two of my three classes. I even managed to start on the third one when I finally succumbed to the desire to continue my internet exploration into the fetish universe.

At least I had the foresight to use the bathroom and grab a quick bite before diving in once more. It was nearly 11 PM when I finally tore my gaze away from the computer screen. This meant I had spent six more hours looking at stories, pictures, and videos involving women's feet. I was blown away when I realized how much time had passed. It hadn't seemed nearly that long.

While brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas, I thought about everything I had examined – and how I felt about Polly. Given the enormous amount of material related to foot fetishism I had seen in the past few days, I was now certain this wasn't as unusual as I had first thought. In fact, the percentages favored at least one of my students having a thing for my feet.

However, I still struggled with the idea she had done what she did without talking to me first. Not that I would have given her the green light to sniff my toes if she had requested my permission, but to do it without my consent was not cool. To take advantage of her teacher made it worse. With these things in mind, I knew any discussion with Polly on the subject was going to be difficult at best.

If all of this wasn't enough, I had one more concern. It was something I couldn't explain, and it both frightened me and intrigued me at the same time. While watching a video of one woman passionately smelling the foot of another woman, I saw the same look of lust on the face of the sniffing woman I had seen on Polly's face when she had been smelling my foot. As I became captivated by it, I felt a tingle of excitement between my legs.

Oh God, did this actually turn me on?

* * *

Wednesday, January 21

Several minutes after being torn from slumber, my breathing remained ragged. The dream I'd been having was so real to me, I found myself in a cold sweat and panting like mad when I awoke.

My mind had transported me back to the fateful Saturday evening in my student's living room. However, there were some details which were radically different.

First and foremost, my hesitation prior to Polly's foot massage had been replaced by a wicked sense of entitlement. I actually expected her to pamper my feet, as if she was meant to do it from the moment I first laid eyes on her in the classroom. Second, her reason for smelling my feet wasn't due to a momentary lack of self-control. I had commanded her to do it, and as I watched her inhale the stench from under my toes, I was becoming more and more aroused.

When I was approaching the brink of orgasm, the alarm clock abruptly ended our session.

As I continued to stare at the ceiling, a number of questions floated around in my head. What was going on with me? Why was my pussy soaking wet? Had I been spending too much time immersed in this new world?

After losing myself in these thoughts for a while, a quick glance at the clock reminded me I needed to get out of bed and get ready for work.

I showered and dressed in near-record time, and scarfed down a light breakfast. The reason for my haste was I needed time to finalize my lesson plans for the day. I would normally have done it the night before, but I spent most of the previous evening absorbed in foot porn.

While hurriedly finishing the lesson plans, I realized I was becoming addicted. What had started as a simple curiosity about Polly's fetish was now an all-consuming obsession. Damn, was I really enjoying it this much? If my dream was any indication, I most certainly was!

A little over an hour later, I found myself sitting alone at a table in the faculty break room. The homeroom period just started, and the guys who had been chatting with me excused themselves moments earlier. Correction – they were actually talking to each other, not me. I didn't say a word, nor did I hear any of their discussion. My brain continued to focus on a certain student, and how I could convince her to have a conversation with me.

It had been nearly four days since the incident at Polly's house, and I was still pondering the exact words to say to her. In that time, my entire life had been taken over by a desire to know what made her tick. However, I felt as though I wasn't any closer to figuring out a way to open this dialogue – and do it in a manner that wouldn't seem harsh or judgmental.

After several more minutes, I decided to take a break from my dilemma and check my phone for new emails. While scrolling through a never-ending stream of useless discount offers and social media notifications, an idea struck me. If I could persuade her to meet with me after school tomorrow in our classroom, I might be able to get her to open up to me. Plus, it would buy me some extra time to carefully choose how to break the ice.

The tricky part would be intercepting Polly before she sprinted away at the end of the period, like she had done the previous day. As I began to contemplate the best method to accomplish this, I heard a noise from across the room.

When I looked in that direction, I saw the pretty teacher I had bumped into the other day. She was reaching down to retrieve a book from the floor. I chuckled softly, as I recalled her referring to herself as a klutz after she dropped her phone in the hallway. She blushed when she noticed my gaze, and quickly opened the book to resume reading – or perhaps to hide her embarrassment from me.

Part of me wanted to go talk to her, but the other part was holding me back. There was so much going on in my head. I needed to concentrate on being able to teach my students without letting my situation with Polly become a huge distraction. However, I also had to think about how to keep Polly from running off at the end of sixth period so I could speak to her privately.

In the end, I decided I wanted to be alone to gather my thoughts. As I rose from my chair to head toward my office, I glanced over at the pretty teacher. Her face remained buried in a book. I shrugged, figuring our time to get to know each other would come eventually, and walked out of the room.

Having those precious minutes to myself turned out to be a blessing. I made it through both of my morning classes, and not once was my inner turmoil on display. I managed to stay calm and composed, while lecturing them on the finer points of Shakespearean literature. They were probably bored to tears, but at least I stayed on topic.

Right after the lunch period started, I entered the break room and opened the refrigerator to retrieve my insulated bag. As I began making my way toward the table where I typically sat, I peeked into my bag and my eyes went wide with astonishment. I immediately darted toward my office and closed the door. There was no way I could show anyone what I had packed for myself to eat!