Deviant - Black Mountain Academy
She is bad news. Not only for my libido, but her folder had some interesting things about the little deviant. Even though she looks like a goddamned angel, she’s so far from it. And that’s the reason I can’t stop thinking about her.
Her name has brought up a myriad of emotions in me. Davenport is pure filth, even if she doesn’t realize it. I know far too much about her and her family. And even though I wanted nothing more than to watch her cry, to see her pain and bask in it, my desire far outweighs my need to hurt her.
I want the bad girl.
I want nothing more than to corrupt her even further.My final class of the day piles in, and that’s when I finally see her for the first time today. I thought I would luck out, that she’d be off sick, or perhaps have left the goddamned school. But here she is, dressed in her uniform, which has been haunting me since the day she walked in here. The white button-up which doesn’t hide the black bra underneath cupping her ample tits. Once again, her skirt swishes against her creamy thighs, and my body responds with a jolt of approval.
“Good afternoon,” I greet them and receive a less than stellar response. “Today we’re focusing on the Roman War. Let’s talk about fighting, soldiers, and bloodshed. Who here has an opinion on why any war would start?”
My gaze tracks each uncomfortable-looking student, ignoring her. At least, trying to. But my eyes finally land on Arabella, who’s slowly lifting her hand after realizing she’s the only one to volunteer. Palm facing me, and I notice her delicate fingers, and I can’t stop imagining them wrapped around my cock.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to clear the dirty thoughts from my mind. “Yes, Arabella,” I say, tasting her name as if it were a fine wine and I were a connoisseur. I decide for a moment I enjoy the flavor of it but quickly shake the feeling away. This is fucking ridiculous.
“All wars are tragic. They’re born of hatred and anger, and of jealousy. Men feel as if revenge is something they should gain, where I feel instead of bloodshed, there are far better ways of dealing with problems,” she tells me, passion and confidence emanating from her as she speaks about something she’s clearly very interested in. “But then again, their morality had been so twisted by their anger, they don’t seem to have cared for what others thought of them.”
“So, you’re saying just because they killed without remorse and took any woman or man they wanted to bed, they are more interesting?” I challenge, hoping she’ll take the bait.
“No. Not at all. I’m saying their lack of consideration at what society would say about them makes them more human than God. Who says something is wrong when it feels right? Granted, there are many acts that are illegal and should stay that way, but many times societal taboos are unfounded or even one-sided.”
For someone so young, I can’t help but be impressed. She’s nineteen, but she speaks with such confidence it’s impressive. Her eyes are wide, locked on mine.
“In that case, you’ll each write a paper on the Roman War and what you would do put in their situation,” I tell the class, breaking my stare from the beautiful Arabella and taking each of the other students’ expressions in. “Choose one of their stories you find interesting and tell me why you think they did what they did. Or better yet, argue how you think it would be seen in our modern-day society.”
Groans from around the class make me smile.
“And when you leave today, I’d like your assignments from yesterday,” I remind them as I settle behind my desk to continue the rest of the lesson. But each time I do face the class, it’s her gaze I capture with mine, and for a split second, I allow myself to think about the possibility of her and me.
And by the time the end of class comes, I’m filled with rage such a beautiful girl could walk in here and tempt me. I’ve always been in control of every situation I’ve encountered, but something about her makes all those scales tip in the wrong direction. It shouldn’t. It’s wrong. And I need to focus on the end game here because getting my dick wet should’ve been a bonus, not the motivation.
The moment my classroom is empty, I sit in my chair and stare out at nothing. For a long while, I enjoy the silence. Even though there are students milling around outside, laughing and joking, I revel in the silence after a long day, but also in the fact that her perfume seems to have embedded itself in my nostrils.