The School Grounds

[Miss_Vivi]

She knew it was coming. The glass never left his hand. She knew that he was likely to punish her, she knew he wanted to disregard that control, that self-same control that was wiped all over her lips and tasted like him.

She'd take it at some point. Still, he lifted her up and vainly she hoped that it meant that in a few short steps she'd feel the sheets on her back and his shirt against her chest. But it wasn't to happen.

He let her go, and while she could have held onto him, she didn't. To the ground she fell, in a ungraceful heap.

Her ass hurt, her pride hurt.

A deep breath to steel her nerves, she stopped playing nice. Or nice for her.
She quickly brought herself to her feet, and while she could feel tears at the back of her throat she stifled them, and flashed only fire and anger at the crooked smile in front of her.

It took all of her strength to spit the words out, but she just managed it.

"You can leave now."

She gestured quickly towards the door, spun on her heel and strode towards the her closet and bathroom. Not even glancing behind her to see if he listened, the arrogant bastard probably wouldn't, but she could leave him.

The bathroom door closed behind her, and she finally let out her breath. Her hands shook, with anger, with lust, with more anger. Without thinking she turned on the water in the shower and stepped in, letting it wash away the pain and heat from the previous moments.

"Bastard." This too had a calming effect as well.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The seconds seemed to slow down, stretch out, his sense of time somehow even more disrupted as she met the floor. He remained bent over her, watching her, glass still in hand, as her lungs filled with a deep breath.

He straightened as she stood, a slight nod of the head in silent acknowledgment of her words, though he did not immediately follow them. He was still standing in the same spot as she disappeared into the bathroom.

Only when he heard the water turn on did he move, quick steps carrying him to the door, his hand reaching for the knob. Fingers gripped, twisted, and he turned the lock quickly. Turning on his heel, he set the glass aside absently as he passed a table. Hands now free, the last buttons were opened on his shirt and it was pulled free, removed, cast aside as absently as the glass had been.

A pause in his steps as he pushed off first one, then the other shoe, leaving those cast behind in his wake as well. A quick movement of hands and his length was slipped back into his trousers, though he ignored the zipper as he moved through the room.

He was quickly at the bathroom door, and he pushed it open and stepped in, stopping just long enough to push it closed quietly behind him.

Swift steps closed the distance to the shower, and he pulled open the curtain. There was no hesitation, no reconsidering, no questioning. Still in his slacks, he stepped into the shower, the water instantly darkening the fabric on his pants.

His hands reached out to her, one pressing his index finger to her lips, and the other took the wet cloth. His eyes were on hers, holding her gaze if she'd meet his, and no grin curved his lips.

"Turn around."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

That she wanted to sob her little heart out went without saying, she felt rejected and just wanted to scrub him out from under her skin, from living inside her head.

Come on Vi, you played with fire and you got burned, grow up and be a big girl about this.

Ducking her head she let the water cover her head and soak through the tresses. While she worked on attaining an equilibrium that didn't include him crawling around in her veins like some new designer drug.

Vi- there are other--

She heard the door open and two seconds later he was there. Shirt off, shoes gone and a determined look on his face. He joined her in the shower so quickly that she didn't have the time to protest. A protest that was cut off by his fingers on her lips and a curt order for her to turn.

Without thinking she slapped him. The sound dulled by the water, but a slap nonetheless, she wanted to yell at him for dropping her, them, this thing that they were doing, but she didn't.

She turned.
She didn't know why she did.
But she turned.

Her shoulders were squared and she was ready to kick him out of the shower if need be. If this was another dance, to another song, she intended to lead.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His head turned to the side, heat radiating into his face from where her hand had met his cheek. His tongue poked his cheek from the other side, stretching the skin, feeling the odd dull ache that formed there, as if it was swelling. It wasn't, he'd likely be no worse for the wear, but it was still an odd feeling that wouldn't quickly depart.

No matter. He wasn't leaving.

The water made a dull sound, like rain on canvas, as it soaked his pants, but like the heat on one half of his face, he paid it no attention. As she turned his head did the same, and he moved up close behind her, his chest against her back.

His arms moved around her, outstretched fingers of one hand under her jaw and chin, and tilting her head back until it was on his shoulder. The other, holding the cloth, moved it under the spray of water, soaking it.

"Close your eyes."

His voice was low, quiet, but not demanding.

And then the cloth was pressed to her body, slow movements against the angry red that stood out on her breasts.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She'd been prepared for everything, once she had recognized those little looks of lust in the hallways of her school, she'd started prepping. A man of action is what she'd prepared for. To accept his lust, his violence, and his ten minutes of ownership of her body where he forced her to accept his desires and make them hers.

She wasn't prepared for this. She shook in his arms as the cloth he held wiped away some of the pain, sending it down the drain.

His violence, she could take. To stand there defiantly and let the blows rain down on her body, but still keep a part of her separate, to keep it from him or any other man who sought to own her. Smile, taunt, tease, accept, all of it a dance that she knew well and excelled at.

This kindness made her feel vulnerable and even more exposed than she had been dancing around naked at his feet. As the cloth moved over her skin, the water poured down on both of them, her body shuddered and her hands sunk into the wet clinging fabric of his pants.

In some ways, to her, this was worse than the cane.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Time was taken, gentle strokes of the cloth over marked and sensitive skin. His fingertips were light under her chin, against her jaw, keeping her head back, and he felt her shaking against him.

He was unsure what caused it, the vulnerability she perhaps hadn't expected, the charge from the past... how long had he been here now, anyway?... still working through her, the anger that had flashed through her, perhaps a bit of the pain as he eased the cloth over her skin. Whatever it might be, whether any one of those or a combination of them, he let her shake against him, and kept his touch gentle as she did.

They were close together, the small spaces bridged by droplets of water that clung to them each. His eyes watched her face for what may play out there, consciously or unconsciously.

He didn't move, didn't speak, when her fingers curled into the soaked clothing he still wore, light strokes of wet cloth making their way from one breast to the other.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

It was another dance. One she had no hope in leading. Not that she ever could with him, that line had been crossed, signed and dotted. He lead here. Which is why she expected him to push her away, push her down, to claim some hole as some sign of his virile masculinity.

That's how all the others did it.
She expected nothing else from him.

Of course, that's when he didn't.
He just held her and washed her and hummed softly in her ear while her body shook and turned to tears, which were followed by sobs that shook her frame and weakened her body. He caressed her skin and asked nothing from her, ordered nothing, demanded nothing, just let her pour out her pain and fear, and accepted it softly, much in the same way she had accepted his violence. No actual words were passed between them just half meanings caught in sobs or comfort.

As is the way with these things, she finally quieted. Turning her body to face his, wrapping her arms around him, she finally allowed herself a moment to be calm and to find a place there in his arms with him, to be okay with following sometimes, to let him lead.

She trusted him.
Not that this would save him from further rebellion. Instead it probably guaranteed it.

As the shower finally cooled, she reached around him and shut it off, and stepped out of the shower. A towel was quickly in her hands and she used it on him as well as herself.

Still, he stood there soaked from his pants, and she laughed lightly at him and held out her hand, intertwining their fingers when they finally met.

"Sir, shall we dance?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Time had lost all meaning. She sobbed, and he held her. She hurt, and he smoothed it away. She shook, and he was stable for her. He had no guesses as to how long since he first rapped on the door, and didn't even bother attempting to figure how long it had been since he stepped into the shower.

Long enough, he realized then, that he no longer felt the heat in his cheek.

But the actual minutes, actual seconds, none of that really mattered. Some moments ran on their own time frame, detached from whatever may be happening outside the bubble of two people and the silent interaction they shared.

And so he held her. Let her dictate the time.

His fingers had left her chin, reaching across her body to the opposite shoulder, and it was in this circle that he kept her, the cloth smoothing over her.

He had, of course, ideas as to what he expected when he had come to her room. To say these were among them would be to simply lie, and yet here they were. And he found he had no intention of leaving.

Eventually, she grew quiet, and for a short time they simply stood in the hiss of the water, breathing together.

She turned, her arms circling around him, and again they stood, his eyes silent on her. Only the water and their breathing made a sound.

And then, time mattered again. Hot water didn't last forever, and the cooling of the spray was the first indication to him of the amount of time they'd been there. She felt it as well, he saw, and the water was soon turned off, the tops of his feet tickled a bit by water dripping from soaked cuffs.

They were silent still as a towel was found, and she dried herself and then him. The pants, however, were clearly not going to be dry for some time. He followed her gaze down to the darkened, soaked fabric, then lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, a grin returning to his lips.

Her hand is offered to him, his eyes flickering to it, then back to her face, and then he nods, fingers finding hers as he steps out of the shower at last.

She is close again, he can feel the heat that radiates off of her, smell a scent that is her alone, that no amount of showers could wash away.

He is grinning again as he stands with her, though it is not the animal-on-the-hunt expression that was previously held there. At least, he speaks again.

"I'm going to drip all over your floor."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"I'm going to drip all over your floor."

She was bent over as these jewels dropped from his lips. Her hair was rapidly tied up into a towel, as she contemplated the soaked man before her. Another grin. For the moment, he was her soaked man, and she was perfectly fine with that. All of the previous hurt, the pain and humiliation lay dormant under her skin until he decided to trip those triggers once more. Or she did. For now, she could only giggle at his helpless and pained expression.

"Just, stay right there, I got this."

The towel was quickly wrapped around her body as she padded off into her voluminous closet, and she searched for the items she was looking for. Finally finding one of them buried under a pile of clothing, she returned to the bathroom.

"I think, I'm less worried about the floors than I am you catching a cold, so here's your choices." Holding out both her hands, she plainly gave him a choice, one of them was another pair of pants, close to his size. The other was a towel.

"I promise to not peek no matter which choice you make."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His eyes travel her body in a quick scan, caught momentarily like a nail on a blanket at the stripes of red along nearly the full length of the back of her legs. It is a quiet admiration of his work, and more than a little admiration of the canvas on which he worked, and he allows himself a slight smile while she is gone.

Brows raise as she returns, offering either pants or a towel. His eyes find her face at her last words, a quiet laugh at the absurdity of her promise not to peek given the stretch of time they'd just spent together, and he reaches out and takes the towel from her.

He is stripped the rest of the way as quickly as is possible when dealing with wet, clingy fabric, the wet pants tossed in a heap into the tub they'd just left, and he wraps the towel around his waist. Her hand is taken again a moment later, and he leads her out of the bathroom and back towards where his tie hangs on her bed.

Somewhere in the room, a glass of rum sits, the liquid slowly making it's way towards room temperature. A cane sits on a table, a bit of heat created by friction and stolen from her skin now leeches into the room. Near the cane, a suit jacket is folded and lain near a bag that was never opened, it's contents never revealed.

In the darkness that soon falls, swallowing up the room, cloaking their bodies in shadow, a new kind of violence takes place. Lips meet, fingers stretch and reach and grip and stroke and caress, muscles tense. Release is found, shared, exchanged.

A day that began with promise ends with an exhaustion of many kinds.

Tangled in each others limbs, hanging in a haze of scent unique to them and to there, they sleep.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The actual end or The True Story of how Scuttle ended up tied to Vivi's bed.

Small sips of water as she stares at him. Unconscious, he is tied to the bed and she smiles at her own audacity. Another sip, as she watches him jerk lightly in his sleep, dead to the world, which is how she managed to bind his arms and legs to the bed in the first place. One of them, of course is his tie, the silk will only get tighter if he struggles. She kind of hopes that he does. If he were awake right now, he would would growl, and deny, and entice her to behave by cooing out his sobriquet and dire promises of vengeance . In this moment, she will have none of it. Though she looks calm, the water is merely so that she lasts and doesn't pass out before she's finished.

One final swallow and the glass is set down on the nightstand, she leans over the bed to lightly trail her fingers over his chest. His power beneath her fingertips has the ability to both make her weak and embolden her to strip it from him. She drags her nails over his chest, the shock of it wakes him up, but by the time he's cleared the sleep from his eyes and realized that he is bound, she am already at the head of the bed, to forestall any complaints or questions from him, leaning over and placing one small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Please, Sir."

It may well be the only moment of submission that he gets. But it is enough, she can sense the weariness through his form. He had a very long day.

Crawling onto the bed she drags her nails up leg while listening to the sweet hiss of his breath. Leaning down she runs her tongue over these new red welts that grace the sensitive skin of his thighs, feeling the heat from them. Her tight red curls tickle his skin as she moves, and she can feel his shudder beneath her.

She cannot help but drag her tongue up his thigh and over his hip bone, diligently avoiding the one area she know he wants her to touch, its own aching neediness jumping at her nearness. But ignore it she does, sinking her teeth into the relative softness of his belly, listening to his groan. She decides to leave a mark there, sucking gently so that the red spot will remain even when she is finished. Her skin slides over his as she slides up his chest alternating between nails striking at him, leaving designs in red, or her tongue whose wetness only leaves a tingle before it's gone. They are pressed together for but a minute, his heaving chest so fucking enticing.

Watching him as his tongue slides along his gorgeous lips, she doesn't even bother to lean to kiss him, hurriedly moving her form over his. Placing a knee on either side of his head, one hand reaches for his hair, the other the headboard to hold herself up against the power that his mouth holds over her body.

That first sweet, tentative, lick frees her, and she listens to her inhibitions whisper goodbye. Her fingers pull greedily at him, and her hips push lower to bring him closer, to pull him deeper. Feeling their combined wetness, she moans for him softly. He's fully awake now, and starving apparently, and pressing himself up into her as much as is possible with the bindings. Her hips buck over his tongue and the pressure to her clit sends a gasp trailing out of her mouth. Tossing her head back and moaning deeply, her hair slides out of her eyes, only to cover her face again when she looks down, whimpering with every lick and nibble, the soft grate of his tongue over her, the full kiss he delivers. It makes her weak, and she is glad for the headboard. Every touch from him, elicits another sound from her in their little game. Moaning, gasping, mewling, these sounds are almost foreign to her ears, though they push her on, make her crave more.

She moans and drips with anticipation. she needs this, she wants this so badly. A creature of heat and wetness, all moans and movement. When he pushes his slick tongue inside her, she takes it as permission granted, and gushes in pleasure from her orgasm. Feeling the wetness cover him as she jerks and spasms. She pleads with him to stop as though he could choose pinned between her legs, her hands buried in his hair.

Weakly moving away, sliding into the spot next to him, cradling him close. Resting her head for but a moment, she has to kiss him then, it's rough and demanding. She licks at his lips, needy again in her lust. Tasting herself, so like tears on his cheeks and she is not nearly finished. Again, that lust rises within, and she becomes greedy with it. She needs to be filled.

Still kissing and caressing she straddles his hips, no teasing, or sliding over him with all of her normal brattiness, instead she takes him into her. Fully. Sighing delicately as she is filled, his hardness twitching inside her, she cannot resist any longer, leaning slightly forward, digging her nails into his chest as she moves over him. Eyes close; dipping one hand low to finger her already craving clit, rubbing it in time to her already frenzied thrusts. He tries, he tries so very hard to match tempo with his hips, but cannot, and nor does she want him to. She uses for her pleasure that night; he is merely along for the ride, which she knows will rankle at him. She doesn't care.

As he is held by the ropes and the tie to the bed, so does she hold him tight within, squeezing tight around his shaft. Her pussy contracting with each rub to her clit, the sounds that she made before are nothing compared to these. The heavy moans and loud gasps punctuated with each movement of her hips. She leans back to watch him, watching her bounce over her cock, her breasts heaving with the movement, her hair crazy and wild as if to call attention to this fact, she curls her fingers into it and pulls. Listening to him moan and knowing how he would so love to be free to do this to her. To do what he want with her, but this isn't about his wants. Her fingers double their efforts as her free hand tugs at her hair, or pinches already hard nipples and scratches at his chest.

Leaning over, using her hand to hold her up as she slides over his hardness, she notices the hard glint of lust in his eyes, she obliges him this one wish and delivers one of her nipples to his lips. Pulling it into his mouth the triple sensation of his cock, her nimble fingers, and his teeth tugging... she's done for. Ripping herself away from his lips, she bounces on his length in short staccato bursts, her fingers rubbing sinfully over an engorged clit, and when she closes those hazel eyes, all she can see is stars.

The orgasm hits her with the force of a wave, she is blown over in her attempts to withstand. Screaming her release to the ceiling, covering them both in her juices. Again she begs, and listens him growl at her, she can't stop moving, can't stop anything. Manically, she slip him out of her turning around, sliding him down her throat. Once more cleaning herself off of him, sucking and whimpering needily around his cock, wondering if he will resist her.

At any other time he would.
Telling her to ask, to beg him.
But the hour is late.

He does not, pouring his seed down her throat, she takes it all greedily. Her lips tugging as if to swallow him whole, making sure every drop of hot cum is gone before she pulls away, licking her lips with a satisfied little sigh. He chuckles at her softly. Without a word, she reaches out and undo the knots that hold him in place, freeing him, before laying down and closing her already tired eyes, she feel his arms wrap around her pulling her closer, but she is already fighting sleep.

A small smile on her lips, before she is lost to unconsciousness, "I told you, Sir."

 

[choklatekoneko]

She couldn't help but pout her full, cherry glossed lips as she walked down the street, the pamphlet crumbled in her back jean pocket. She sighed heavily, the bellbottom dragging the ground a bit as she stopped, glancing at the address. She reached for her back pocket, digging out the paper, and glancing. Yes. This was the place. She had a few friends insist, and on their account she decided to just go with it. She was intrigued by what she had read anyway, but she would never let them know that.

Slender fingers played with a long twist as she walked up the steps, opening the door with ease. The bright red cropped top she was wearing showed off toned arms, a flat nice stomach. The jeans hugged every curve of her ass and legs. She decided to be cute and wear chunky heels. She saw a woman at the front desk and smiled brightly, dark eyes glittering with curiosity.

"Excuse me...I was wondering if I could have tour of the place?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He'd gone out to get tea, the weather having grown chilly and the school, still mostly empty as students left for break, having become quiet... usually.

As he returned to the school, his coat closed against the breeze that filtered it's way down the street, his eyes flicked up to the window that allowed the grey light into the bedroom of the headmistress, and he grinned to himself.

Slipping in the front door, the rattan cane clicked rhythmically on the floor as he passed through the front entrance way, his gaze snagging on a girl waiting at the front desk, and he almost passed her by. A last-second though, pushing a grin onto his lips, caused him to stop just as he'd passed into the main hallway, and reconsider.

Turning on his heel, he walked back to where the girl stood, his eyes traveling her body slowly, taking her in. At last, he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"And this is how you dress when looking to tour a fine school such as this, young one?"

 

[choklatekoneko]

She took a long glance at the place as she waited for an answer, and silently nodded in approval. It was nice. She still wasn't sure however, and bit her fully bottom lip in thought. As she did, the front door she had came through slipped open, and she turned her head, seeing the man pass through. The cane clicked. And clicked.

She contemplated asking him where was everyone, but decided against it, and shrugged softly, biting her lip. That is until he turned and walked towards her. She smiled brightly, innocently almost as followed his eyes glance over her curvy body.

"And this is how you dress when looking to tour a fine school such as this, young one?"

She tilted her head and rolled her eyes, not really caring how she was dressed.

"I didn't realize this was such a 'fine school.' " She said softly, looking at him. "Do you work here?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

A single brow arched, just slightly, as he watched her roll her eyes, and the small grin that pulled the corners of his lips up at the ends grew. He let the comment on the school itself pass, an issue perhaps they'd deal with later, and instead replied with a short nod.

"I do, yes."

He paused, a small sip taken from the cup of tea - smooth, black, a splash of cream and bit of sugar added to cut the tannins a bit - passing the hot liquid over his tongue and swallowing before he continued.

"If you'd like that tour, you may come with me."

 

[choklatekoneko]

"I do, yes."

She tilted her head the other way, waiting for him to continue, but instead, she watched as he sipped his tea. She sighed heavily, clearly not liking how he was taking her precious time away. She pouted her lips for a few moments, looking around the establishment once more before hearing his words.

"If you'd like that tour, you may come with me."

She nodded softly, her hands motioning for them to get started.

"Alright. Lead the way."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

A nod, silently, and he turns on his heel again, this time to head back the way he came. The cane meets the floor as he walks, his pace brisk, and it is quickly clear to anyone that watches him walk that he does not need the cane for support.

Click.. click.. click..

The elevator approaches rapidly, waiting on the ground floor for them, and he reaches out with the cane as he approaches, tapping the button. The doors open right away, and he turns to the side, indicating the open door with a tilt of his head.

"After you, miss."

 

[choklatekoneko]

She rolled her eyes again as he turned his back, and crossed her arms over her ample chest- not too much..not too little. She followed him, watching him watch intently. She could tell he didn't even need the cane, and it made her curious as to why he used it in the first place. She followed behind him quickly, her short frame walking a little faster to keep up.

Eventually curiosity got the best of her, and as the elevator doors open, she nodded to him, stepping inside, leaning against the walls, faintly hearing the music.

"Why...do you even use that thing?" She said, pointing to the cane. She swallowed softly after a long moment, and tilted her head in questioning.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Blue eyes followed her as she passed him into the elevator, and then he entered himself, turning to face the open doors. His back was to her, a quick stab of his finger choosing the topmost floor, and then the doors closed. He could see her behind him in the reflection on the doors, leaning back against the wall, and his eyes studied her slightly misshapen form there.

The elevator began to move, swiftly carrying them past the dorms, the headmistress' quarters, and up towards the classrooms, where the tour would begin. Her question regarding the cane brought a quiet chuckle from him, and he lifted it, his gaze shifting from the reflection of her to the length of rattan he held up.

"I find it a... useful tool. Good for getting an unruly class, or," here he paused, and turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, "A disrespectful student quickly in line."

The elevator came to a stop and his attention moved forward again, the tip of the cane returning to the floor. He stepped out and onto the polished tile of the hallway, open doors extending down each side.

Click.. click.. click..

"On the top floor here are our classrooms. You'll find they are various sizes, but all small. We like a small student-to-teacher ratio, and even have one-on-one classes for students that need a little extra... guidance."

 

[choklatekoneko]

She heard the chuckle and smirked, watching the cane lift up in his hands.

"I find it a... useful tool. Good for getting an unruly class, or...a disrespectful student quickly in line."

She raised an eyebrow, but other than that, her face remained blank, nodding softly.

She saw the look. She didn't act like she did though.

She looked at the numbers on the elevator, lighting up with each floor they passed,until they reached the highest one- the highest floor. The elevator stopped and after a brief pause opened it's doors again. She followed him and the cane, watching it stop on the floor...clicking...and clicking.

"On the top floor here are our classrooms. You'll find they are various sizes, but all small. We like a small student-to-teacher ratio, and even have one-on-one classes for students that need a little extra... guidance."

She nodded softly, peeking in some of the classrooms. They were indeed small.

"Hmm. That sounds fun. Guidance huh?" She asked softly.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He nodded, stopping before the doorway off a classroom most of the way down the hall and indicating it with a sweep of his cane.

"Guidance, yes. Students that come here are often..." he paused, head tilting side-to-side slightly, as if searching for the correct word, and finally settled for, "A challenge, and need a little extra attention.

And this is my classroom. I'm the science teacher here. Feel free to step in and have a look."

 

[choklatekoneko]

She followed his cane and peeked inside the classroom, biting her lip, looking around. Like the others it was small.

"Guidance, yes. Students that come here are often..."

She turned to look at him, waiting to see what he said. She watched intensely as he tilted his head.

"A challenge, and need a little extra attention."

She nodded softly, wondering exactly what that meant.

"And this is my classroom. I'm the science teacher here. Feel free to step in and have a look."

She smiled softly and did just that, stepping inside and glancing around more intently, looking at things. She glanced at his desk, the pupil's seats, the things on his walls.

"Hmm. Cool. You teach all the sciences?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Quick steps followed her into the room, close behind her, and then he slipped around her as she looked around, moving to his desk at the front of the room. The cane was lain across it, the cup of tea set next to it, and then his fingers worked the button on his coat, revealing finally the dark suit he wore under it.

The coat was slid off his shoulders, then hung on a coat rack in the corner. Her voice filtered to him in the corner, and he turned, hands clasped behind his back as he watched her.

"Indeed I do. Though, as you can see from all the empty rooms, many of the students are currently gone on holiday."

He walked back to his desk, leaning against the front edge of it and crossing one ankle over the other. His fingers curled around the warm cup of tea, eyes still on her over the rim of it as he took another drink, then lowered it.

"Tell me, miss: Why do you want to attend our school?"

 

[choklatekoneko]

She heard his footsteps but paid no mind to them as she glanced around his classroom. She could tell he was pretty strict, and watched as he laid the cane onto the desk. She turned then, deciding to seat in one of the desks, like a good 'student' would.

"Indeed I do. Though, as you can see from all the empty rooms, many of the students are currently gone on holiday."

She nodded, her question being answered. Of course they were with their families, celebrating the holidays. She tilted her head as she walked back to the desk, leaning on it and sipping his tea.

"Tell me, miss: Why do you want to attend our school?"

At the question, she smirked a little. She crossed her legs, squirming a bit to get comfortable before leaning forward, shrugging.

"My friends figured it might be good for me. And...I thought it might be fun."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

She was sitting at one of the desks, much as any other student would, and it gave him a chance to picture her there as a student. Though, he'd see to it that she was dressed differently. Less skin showing, lest she be a distraction to the other students. And teachers.

The initial answer to his question was not much of a surprise, many students had been recommend to the school by others that knew them. Fun, however, was not what he expected her to say. Perhaps she was unaware of the purpose of the school. Perhaps it was a joke they were playing. Perhaps...

"You know we're a school for difficult boys and girls, yes? Do you consider yourself difficult, miss?" he asked, brow arching at her.