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With his bachelor degree in pocket, the freshly graduated teacher made his way towards the exit of the bus when the school came in sight.
He wormed his way through throngs of people, all packet up like sardines in a can.

“Excuse me. Coming through. This is my stop. Thank you. Pardon me.”

After receiving a few filthy looks and elbows in the ribs, Ethan wept off his sweaty forehead and desperately inhaled gallons of fresh air while stationed on the pavement, streams of people slithered by. It was a welcoming variety after scalding in cocktails of sweat and cheap perfume.

“Watch it please!” His suitcase popped open when it plummeted on the pavement, paperworks puddled all over the floor.

"Patsy." He said more to himself than the one who caused it.

He stressfully picked them all up and stuffed itback in his suitcase, all crumpled.
He didn’t want to be later than he already was on his first day.

“Excuse me there young lad, but you happen to know where the principal’s office is?” The gothic-like juvenile gave Ethan an annoying look when wrenching his shoulder free from his grip and nodded towards the end of a hall.

He quickly hushed off in the pointed direction through herds of other high school kids. None of them bothered to make room for him.

“Kids these days. Polite’s in short supply around here it seems.”



KNOCK KNOCK

No response.

KNOCK KNOCK

“Oh for fucksake just enter please!”

Submerged in a cough-encouraging-cloud originated from a Cuban partaga Ethan entered the office and squinted through the smog at a hefty, bald man looking up from behind his desk in a sullen glance.

“Sorry to disrupt you sir, my name is…”

“I know who you are.” He barged in. “You’re the new teacher for class 6B.” He leafed through some papers and sprawled some ashes here and there while doing so due to the cuban which was clenched between his fingers.

“Ethan was it?”

“That’s right sir.”

“Pleased to meet you. You can call me mister Bigfield, your late by the way.”

“Yea I’m really sorry about that mister Bigfield.” He stammered apologetic. This wasn’t exactly what Ethan had in mind when chopping off the first day of his new career as a teacher. First impressions can last forever.
“My wife's car refused duty this morning, so she had to take mine while I was forced to take the bus and…”

“Please. No spraying with excuses here. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Will do mister Bigfield.”

“Well now. Class 6B was it? Turn right, then left, right again and subsequently at the end of the hall just past the vending machine it’s the first door to your left. Can’t miss it. Just follow the sound of zoo-like clamor."

In a slight haste, Ethan followed mister Bigfield’s directions. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he felt a knot in his stomach. He was nervous.

First impressions can last forever. He pondered.

And the first impression his class would have of him was that of a teacher who came late on his first day. He would have to work hard to make that up he knew. They would test him, challenge his boundaries, and they would certainly use the fact of his late-coming against him.
Pushing away any form of doubt about his own competence Ethan walked in the noisy classroom. He did his best to act and walk in a posture of self-confidence even though he didn’t feel that way.

Show no weakness.

“That dude our new teacher?” He heard a voice speaking while he placed and unpacked his suitcase on the desk. One by one he felt all eyes arrowed at him and to his surprise, all chatter faded away to a dead silence.
Only the sound of paper crinkle was heard when Ethan was busy to order his stuff. This sudden collective act of turning all attention on him caught him by surprise. He had hoped for a short opportunity to mentally prepare himself before engaging with his new class.
That was all to no avail. He had to act, now.

Ethan took position and cleared his throat. “Good morning class, my name is Ethan Cutler and I’m from west-district…”

“Your late.” A boy in the back said. He heard some others chuckle. “Where is the apology?”

Is this youth already trying to get a rise out of me?
Ethan quickly racked his brain for an apt retort but was saved the trouble when to his surprise, a girl took it up for him.

“Good morning mister Cutler.” She said while she pierced her green eyes in a challenging way towards the boy who made the comment. He only made a tsk sound and shrugged before turning his head. “Welcome to Whitewater High. Please. Continue.”

This girl seemed to carry a lot of weight in this class, because no one back-talked her.

“Thank you miss…”

“Gwendolyn sir.” The pretty black haired girl beamed.

After all formalities and acquaintances, Ethan hardly bounced on any hindrance while giving class the rest of the day. He did make sure to observe this Gwendolyn with extra caution. She somehow intrigued him. He noticed that none of the other students conversed with her, they didn’t even make eye-contact only when absolutely necessary.
When she mingled in during discussions and debates, the conversation instantly died with her standpoint.
And what perturbed him the most was the moment when the buzzer went off for lunch break. Throngs of students rushed off for a moment of freedom and took a seat in the canteen in the company of friends and classmates, except Gwendolyn.
Ethan saw her find solace on her own in some corner, scrolling on her phone and eating a sandwich.
He felt sorry for her.

When class was over, the room streamed empty and Ethan made a finishing touch to pack up his suitcase again when he heard footsteps approaching. It was Gwendolyn.

“Gwendolyn. What can I do for you?”

She presented a sheepish smile. “Nothing really. I just wanted to say that I’m happy to have you as our new teacher.”

Ethan smiled back. “Why thank you Gwen, that really means a lot to me.”

“See you tomorrow sir.” And with that she hushed off. Ethan just couldn’t help but to give eyes to her legs when she sauntered towards the hallway. They we’re well formed, not to thin not to thick. He imagined a group of one-inch tall people getting crushed under her sneaker. As a result, his dick immediately got awoke from his slumber.

Not this juvenile! He reprimanded himself. The girl is only seventeen for godsake!

He felt dirty for having these thoughts about one of his students. He quickly squeezed them to his subconscious and conjured the image of his lovable wife, his true Goddess.
For the entire bus ride back home his member was at full attention. Ethan felt horny as hell while disturbing images of Gwendolyn as a giantess invaded his mind. He would make sure to fuck Clara’s brains out this evening, with her on top so that he could imagine her as a giantess. He had to get rid of these sexual urges before the morrow.




Chapter End Notes:

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