by Writing Shark
You visit your daughters at school
Gemma is already waiting for you, excited and happy. You get out of your car – you hate driving a family car but you can’t fit enough people in your sports car for your plans – and hug her. A quick kiss on the cheek on tiptoe and Gemma is satisfied.
“Where’s your sister?” you ask her.
Yes school is important and also you want your daughters to be smart enough so no one suspects what you are doing with their tight cunts, throats and asses. But you are more important than the plan of Mrs Hoover to have an extra class for the class and the reasons couldn’t be less important to you.
You don’t knock, of course you don’t. Grace Hoover is a woman, younger than you, and you know how to deal with such creatures.
“Who are you?” You’ve rarely seen her. Teacher-Student-Hours have always been your wife’s business. But you know her, know all the women in your daughter’s life. On paper, the young, intelligent, married teacher should be your worst enemy, a danger to you, your girls, and your plans. But the look she gives you as you simply step into the classroom, her realm, tells you that you could bend Alice over her desk right now and fuck her senseless without this woman doing anything to you. It’s all about how you act and you act just right. “What do you want?” Her voice betrays concern and nervousness, and her blue summer dress only makes her more inferior in your eyes. And in those of the class.
“Dad!” Alice jumps up. Here, she would never call you by your pet name. You don’t care if Alice knows what Mrs. Hoover teaches her, you’re proud of the intelligence she has inside her, not the stuff they try to hammer into her head. Most of it is useless anyway.
Ignoring Mrs. Hoover, Alice jumps up from her seat and hugs you.
“Get your things packed. We have to go.”
“Okay.” It’s clear who’s in command of your daughter’s life. You turn to the teacher, the eye of the entire class on you.
Alice is in the same class as Elise, which works to your advantage. And there’s also Valerie, the head cheerleader and daughter of Grace Hoover who’s giving your daughter a hard time.
“I’m the father of Alice,” you explain.
“The husband of Hellen.” The two women maintain a friendship, as close as women can be, and you allow it. You nod.
“I’m going to take my daughters out of school for a week and take them on a business trip.”
“But…”
“It will benefit their education and worldview.” Your education and the worldview you want them to have. “We’re leaving tonight and time is already short enough.” While you explain the world to Grace, Alice is already excitedly packing her things. As she does so, she keeps squinting at Elise who looks at her nervously, but keeps turning to you and watching you dominate her teacher in her classroom.
“You… you can’t do that” the young woman cries out. She’s about your wife’s age but you don’t care. You stare at her and out of the corner of your eye you see Elise squeeze her thighs together. It’s the same look that makes her go weak too and it works even better on a grown woman who knows what danger looks like.
“We’ll discuss this outside,” you say, turning around. The whole class watches as Grace trots along behind you without protest, realizing too late that she separates from the pack, to be alone with the shark. Not that the pack would save her. Outside, you turn to face her, but don’t close the classroom door. You just embrace the defeated look of a woman who thought she can control the world. “I can and I will, Mrs. Hoover,” you say loud enough for the class to hear.
“The door…” murmurs the woman who doesn’t dare close it herself, despite standing right beside it. You ignore her.
“My daughters’ affairs are my business and I don’t care if you are friends with my wife or if your naughty daughter is bouncing around the sports field with mine. It’s my responsibility to make sure my daughters have a good life.”
“Your wife…”
“It’s just me, Mrs. Hoover,” you resent.
“Yes…okay…”
“You will not interrupt me in front of Alice or Gemma ever again. Nor will you defy me or imply you have any say in my daughters’ lives. I am their father.” Grace looks like she’s about to cry. An (sort of) grown-up woman who thought she was strong. You have to stifle a laugh.
Actually, you like Grace. She’s beautiful, kind, polite and reserved, and she has good taste in clothes and a sense of humor that appeals to you. But you are a man and you don’t let the throbbing in your cock distract you as you think about taking off the woman’s blue dress and humiliating her further in front of her class. You can put those feelings to better use.
Her breath catches as you lean past her and close the door. Then your facial expression changes.
“Excuse me,” you say a little more kindly, and pain creeps into your expression, feigned, of course. “Things aren’t going so well with me and Hellen right now and I need to be a role model for my daughters.” The nice way only confuses the anxious teacher more but as a woman she responds to kindness instinvtivly.
“I didn’t know that Hellen…”
“She’s a good wife and mother… but… But sometimes she does wrong things… and that hurts.”
“I’m… sorry about that… Mister Winters.” Grace even manages a smile. Time and time again, you’re surprised at how well this play works. First you attack them and then you make them feel grateful that you don’t anymore. You show yourself vulnerable and the women get the idea on their own that it was them who did something wrong.
“Please, call me James.”
“Okay, James.” And Grace does everything on her own.
This is easier than anything before.
“You can take Alice and Gemma with you.” Another smile, proud of her work.
Hubris.
“Those two are excellent students anyway. A week you say?” You nod. “I can answer for that to the principal.”
“He’s your husband, isn’t he?”
“Yes but he also helps out as a teacher. You know, cutbacks and all that.”
If you wouldn’t just teach our kids political crap and your own agenda and focus on your real job we wouldn’t have this problem.
“Yeah, I’ve been there. Maybe we can get together as a group sometimes?” Again, you play sad. “If it works out with Hellen.” Grace Hoover, who is probably underfucked and lonely, still as confused and scared as any woman, lunges for the hook that will be her downfall. Voluntarily.
“That would be nice. I hope it works out with your wife. You’re such a beautiful couple. I’m rooting for you.”
Back in class, you enter before the teacher and all the students look at you in disbelief, you nod your head toward the door.
“Alice, we’re leaving.” Your daughter nearly bursts with pride and presses her lips together to keep from laughing. But you’re not done yet. “Elise.” The girl jerks her head up and stares at you. You see that she’s tense, just not for the reasons the others are. Or maybe for the same ones, you glance at some of the other girls. And Mrs. Hoover. A determined man has the same effect on most women. “So do you.”
Grace Hoover opens her mouth, but then closes it again. Wordlessly, she watches you remove another student from her class. As Elise packs her things, a silence spreads through the room that you already know and have come to expect. And it doesn’t surprise you that it’s Valerie who can’t take it anymore.
“Can you even afford this trip?” she asks Elise mockingly who winces at the attention. But only the two friends of Valerie laugh, and that quietly. The rest of the class looks at you expectantly. You move into the room, into the realm of Grace, without asking, and put an arm around Elise.
“You’re Valerie, right?” She’s as beautiful as her mother. Only dumber.
“I’m…”
“Too stupid to read the room” you interrupt her and take the backpack from Elise. She’s your daughter, and even if you don’t like her mother, Elise deserves you as a father, and you feel the same way you do when you defend Alice or Gemma. That’s just what a father does.
“Mom!” screeches Valerie.
“Your mommy won’t help you, kiddo,” you say, sounding disappointed. It could have been a good fight. “She’s smarter than you.”
“He can’t do that.” You turn to the class.
“There you have a girl who doesn’t know anything about the world. Isn’t she the leader of your little gang? You should choose your leaders more wisely.” Then you shake your head and lead Elise and Alice outside. “Kids,” you grumble.
And as the door closes behind you, you hear first giggles, then laughter.
Writing Shark 