Witching Hour

All Rights Reserved ©

The Best, Worst, First, if not Last, Day

Samantha didn’t even bother to wait for her alarm. She stumbled through the Black Halls and to the classroom, where she had to mend the door. Manual dexterity and emotional balance were not on her side that day, nor was her patience. She needed to mend it twice, and ended up needing to go to her room anyways.

“Fucking godsdamn fucking metal fucking piece of fucking shit,” she grumbled, facing the steps. They were the steepest challenge in her pilgrimage, a journey that had begun the night before with her new friends. It spanned across another multitude of bottles and mishaps, but know this: none of it could considered tame. And made her wish for a man again so. Fucking. Badly.

The three had taken her to the apartments. Specifically to Lola’s, where the Lola she knew and the one behind closed doors were two completely separate people. Samantha would never have taken her for a fan of Japanese cartoons, for instance, let alone video games or even K-pop music, but it was all there, in (painful) staggering amounts. Lola told her not to judge, and she didn’t... verbally.

Like dealing with a cleaner, more obtuse Buffy.

In fact, Samantha found herself imbibing more and more of Lola’s generous offerings as she stayed there. If she didn’t, she didn’t know how she would survive the “shows” she put on. Weren’t cartoons meant, and aimed at, children? Their art seemed to be, but the themes- the content in general was anything but! Little girls running around to be “magical” only for one to get her head bitten off, in gruesome detail, for instance.

It must have been aimed for adults, at that point. Or at least young adults, but how could either group find enjoyment out of cartoons? Then again, she partook in her own vices of that world, so she knew how freaky the Japanese could be. Maybe those cartoons were initially meant for kids; otherwise, how could they get so fucked up in later years to make what she likes? Even then, though, she preferred more... grounded art styles. Not the bright and fast-paced and almost ethereal movement of what she was forced to endure.

But everyone had their breaking point, and, after seven episodes, she had enough.

“So, this show,” she blurted, garnering a hateful look from her lovely hostess. It didn’t help that it was followed by a loud belch before she continued. “Sorry. As I was saying. Is the main character actually going to do anything? I mean, the show is literally named after her, but it’s been everyone else picking up the slack.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the point,” Lola said. Curt. Offended?

“For the main character to be absolutely useless?”

“She is anything but. In fact, she’s the most important character in this series.”

“Because... the show is named after?”

“Look. Just keep watching. Everything will make sense.”

Not if my old friend Jack has anything to say about it, she thought, and took a large swig from her rum bottle. Although, she bet this would have all made sense if she had some of her Auntie Mary Jane, instead. Either way, it would all end with a forced visit to John, so it depended on how much she wanted to abuse him.

Thankfully, though, they reached the end of the series. Which made even less sense... They moved onto something she could really get behind: a burly, brooding hunk of a man with a huge sword... and an even larger blade. The art style, itself, sobered her up a good bit, and she found herself enthralled, watching this beacon of strength rise from power from such seedy beginnings and misery-laced events.

Sadly, it seems her hostess was not as big a fan.

“Good gods. How can they fuck it up this bad?” Lola blurted, turning it off. She practically threw her remote at the TV, but it missed the mark –or hit it, depending on which one she was aiming for. It landed on the plush carpeting, instead, huffing with her contempt. “They had years, decades of material to work off of, and they do this?”

“Didn’t seem too bad to me,” Samantha said.

“Did you read the manga?”

“No, and I’ve never read any mang-gah.”

“Oh no,” Bridget mumbled, Tanya too lost in herself to notice anything at the moment. Even then, it was like a click snapped in the air, pulling her lazed, glazed gaze over to Lola. The raven-haired witch had stood up, lording over Samantha, the air incredibly tense –rather, hot and heavy. As was Lola’s true power.

Lola shook her head, panting. “No... no! Mahn. Gah.”

“Main. Gay,” Sam said, which brought a resolute crack that time. The air turned a shade of lavender, emanating from the green lines in Lola’s arms.

“Bitch!” She squawked, lost to a moan. Samantha could feel the needles at the back of her mind, scraping, tearing, demanding her to listen. And obey. “Mahn. Gah.”

“Man. Jay.”

The light burst from her again, carried by a long moan and an incredibly tawdry scent, but Samantha felt anything but turned on by it. An invisible force kept pressing down on her, seeming to grow with each pulse of that light from the (now) quivering witch.

“Are you really trying to piss me off?” Lola said, chuckling.

“I mean, if it does. It’s just a word.”

“You’re very right, Sammy. It is just a word, Sammy. How could anyone, Sammy, get upset over a simple word, Sammy. Especially when they have been corrected on it... Sammy.”

Fine. The weight lifted, and the light faded as she spoke.

“I never read the manga,” she stated. “Happy?”

“Yes. Very. Thank you.” She sighed.

And almost fell back.

Her white skirt was ruined, stuck to her sodden panties under as she quivered. Her knees had buckled, but were squeezed together instead of being allowed to fan out. Much to her own disdain. Soft drops pattered onto the carpet from between her legs, reeking of lust, but she found her balance at last and was able to uncross her legs. She made her way across the room and into another room, leaving a trail.

She returned with three tomes, all with the same title, dropped in descending order into Samantha’s lap.

“There. Better take good care of those.”

“Oh, I will.” She looked down upon the cover of the first, seeing that brute of a man on it, leaning against his sword, and her cheeks started to warm. “I will.”

And, as much as she wanted to keep looking into those smoldering eyes, she had to open it, to peel herself away, and see him in black-and-white instead, for it beat what she put on next. Far too colorful. Far too spirited; even simply drawn, the manga she looked through had more weight to its images than what was on the television. It was in that the dawn came, then the day. Light had seeped into the apartment, allowing the deep violet wallpaper its full blossom, burning bright orange as Lola finally stirred and realized the time.

“Oh shit,” she grumbled, waking the others. “Sam. We got to get you b... wait. You’re still up?”

“Huh?” Samantha uttered, finally looking up from the third tome. She was on the last four pages. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. I was about to wake you after the next page.”

“Did... did you really read those?”

She nodded, and was thankful the sun had warmed her cheeks then, hiding her glow.

“I did. Is there more?”

“Yeah. A shitton.” She stood, and took the tomes from Samantha’s hands, whisking them into the other room before returning not with three more but nine, smaller collections. This time, Samantha graciously received them, which only made Lola snicker. “I’m surprised. Not many people get hooked by that series. Even those that do see it as misery incarnate.”

“That may be true, but it makes the brighter moments shine all the more... Well, that, and Guts is an absolute hunk.”

“I know, right! Now you see why I was pissed?”

“Not really. Still seemed faithful, but the art style was far worse.”

With that, Samantha carefully kept the books before her, though was more than ready to cradle them and fall on her back instead as the four trudged to the cars in the parking lot. Though there was plenty of movement in the apartments, growing, buzzing more as the sun continued to settle over the horizon, none had made it to the cars yet, which meant they had to traverse the maze of SUVs, minivans, and even a few mopeds to get to the three sedans on the very edge. The silver one sat pretty in between a red and blue; they took the red today, and, with a heavy heart, Samantha said her goodbye to them all before Bridget whisked her down below in her nimbus and returned her to the entrance of the Black Halls.

This all passed through her mind again as she looked, wantonly, at the books piled in the drawer of the desk in the classroom. They were waiting for her, pining for her as much as she did them, all the while agonizing over her computer to boot up. She leaned against the podium, fighting sleep as best she could. It was the first day, after all, and she would not show weakness!

But the “light”! The “light” coming from the “window”! It burned! It burned Samantha’s eyes! She even grabbed a pair of sunglasses in her room before coming back down to wage war against it, pressing them ever harder against as it waged on for minutes- generations! She tried her damnedest to block out that accursed abomination, that ferocious facsimile... BUT, at least she didn’t wake up in Minos’s room (this time).

And speak of the Devil.

He smacked her rear as he rounded the podium, which woke her up in all the wrong ways. Made all the worse seeing the desk he chose. It was just off to the left, right in front, and how he smiled, how he gloated. How he looked over her, at her “ensemble”. “Thrown on in a blind haze” would have been flattering for how she looked. Her dress shirt wasn’t buttoned proper, if at all. That teal, plaid top was more tucked together than actually buttoned, and was nice and loose near her breasts, showing off her black “bra”. Really, it was two pairs of panties repurposed for the day since FUCK THOSE HOOKS. Her white skirt, though already seen the worst over the last two days, was not given any slack for that day. It was rumpled and rolled up a bit too high on her legs, showing off where her stockings hung. They were torn down her left thigh, where Tanya had a bit too much fun, and now they threatened to tear more as she squirmed and tensed and rubbed together, all the while he hummed and continued to pierce her with those red eyes.

“Morning,” he said “Looks like you had a fun one.”

Samantha would have said something, wanted to say something, but her mind was too fried to truly care nor to give any malice. Besides, no weakness! And so he was more than content to receive a(n attempted) dirty look, and nodded, opening his notebook. She ignored it, looking back at the desk, wanting nothing more than to lose herself in those pages... however, his EVER INCREASING CALLS pulled her gaze back to him-

“Oh, fuck you!” She said, and metal started to crackle its way up her arm. He simple shrugged, and put down that piece of paper with a C-minus. He finally got his response, after all, and laughed even harder as her computer finally decided to chime up, telling her it was ready. And making her jump. She glowered at the laptop, but even moreso at herself, seeing what awaited in her... ‘lesson’ plan.

What the hell was I thinking? Her eye twitched, scrolling down, seeing how she was going to tackle four chapters in Introduction to basic Maths, Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry, and Calculus, three chapters in Biology and Chemistry: The Evolution of Compounds, a tally of instruments for them to try, and then ten chapters of What is Art: An in-depth l- all in one day! How am I supposed to cover all that! It’s the f... Okay. We’ll cut it down to two chapters of Maths, two of Science. Choosing the instruments is f-

“Morning, teach!” Monica shrilled as she hugged her. She rubbed against, with more than her personality being perky that morning. Her nips dug through her cream tank as she bounced on her heels, making her breasts bound out of that loose top. “Are you ready? I’m so excited! What you gonna teach us, huh? Huh? Huh huh huh?” Minos cleared his throat; Monica let Samantha go, skipping over to him, and gave him a hug and kiss on his cheek. “Horny Jack!”

“Minos. My name is Minos.”

“Can’t I just call you Horny Jack? Especially after Saturday? It fits so well.”

He inhaled deep, long... and breathed out, lavishing it as he gave her a bored look. A stark contrast to the fervor he gave Samantha –and why was she happy about that!


“Aw! But it fits so well,” she bounced over to him and rubbed his horns. “After all, these are amazing-”

“H-hey! D-d-don’t t-”

“Oh my! You’re getting a little turned-on. Do you like your horns rubbed? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have rubbed them so much.” She leaned against them, humming softly as she continued to say such sweet things as she rubbed. Well, sweet by Monica’s definition; any place else, it would be more at home in a bad porno. Samantha would have interrupted, but was too busy enjoying the show. Minos was getting flustered, unable to really speak nor move as she worked those horns. And only those horns... Though, she started to feel a bit pained as she saw his cheeks warm, as his tongue lulled, inching closer to Monica’s chest.

“Stop it,” he managed to pant, lost to a moan.

“Oh, but you sound like you are really liking it.” She giggled, leaning further on him as she rubbed down to the bases of the horns. And kissed them. She peppered them in tiny smooches, trailing down to his forehead. She lowered further and looked him in the eyes, such smoldering passion in between them, burning brighter as her hands lazed up those horns, getting to the tips, squeezing, “turning” them... before roving back down again. “Come on... you know you are enjoying it.”

“I... I am.” He admitted. And sounded so... defeated, ashamed that he did. It was followed it with a snort as he grimaced at her, while she simply smiled back.

“I just want to show you my appreciation for... consoling me. After teacher locked me out and kept me from having any quality time with her. You truly are a sweetheart –ooh! You jerked the most there.” She tittered, and used the force of his head bucking back to clamber onto his desk. She splayed her legs around him, her black skirt rolled up to show the dark abyss under, glistening in the fake light. But neither had any interest in that pit. She was too busy still simply rubbing those horns, easing him back into her embrace. She goaded his head against her chest, still rubbing his horns and peppering his sweating brow with kisses. All while he lapped and groaned and moaned against.

He rocked against her, his whole body quivering, but he made sure his hands were flat on the desk. And, with every passing minute, the faux wood creaked more. Both the seat and the top.

“Please,” he said.

“Please what, Minos?” She kissed up... then sucked on the side of the left horn, making him bray a touch. And her giggle. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you-”

“Yes? Don’t hold back, Minos. Tell me what you really, really-”

“To get off of me!”

His chair shrieked as he bolted to his feet, making her shriek as he slammed her down onto the desk. But it was only a moment, a breath, before he recoiled, clutching his chest. Samantha, shaken out of her... questionable stupor, could now see it wasn’t only arousal and want that made him tremble. His entire face was contorted in rage, the grimace upon it making her wonder if it was for her... or for himself... like another, burly man she had been eyeing all night. She had no idea Minos could show such... guilt, remorse. Brooding.

Monica whined as she slid off the desk before him, and leaned on his knees. She laid her head on the right as she rubbed his legs, and Samantha blushed a little seeing the fabric of his black sweats absolutely taut before her head. It was most likely not full length yet, but it still put many a man to shame even at that size. Monica’s hand rubbed at his thigh, circling, ever closing in on that obscene addition in those sweats, but Minos didn’t look very happy about it. He glared at her... but... kept his hands on his chest all the same, looking at her.

Before looking up at Samantha.

She quickly averted her gaze, and started to rummage in her desk. She closed the drawer with the manga, opened the one under, and was surprised to find a spray bottle. It was a minty green, though might have been darker. Hard to tell with the frost that clung and pulsed from the bright red rune on the bottom, leaving a stamp on the drawer. There was a note on it, as well. From Lilith.

In case of Monica.

Monica continued to moan and mewl as she groped Minos, his head lulling back, a storm of emotion on his face as she slid a hand into his pants-

Both cried out as Samantha sprayed them. There was no doubt why the fabric of those sweat pants quickly became loose; she couldn’t even hold the bottle without wrapping it in her jacket, and even then she could feel it biting through as it turned the dark silk frigid and shattered. But Samantha didn’t relent. She sprayed Monica thrice more, whom yowling louder with each, but held on. It took another seven before she finally wormed away, scurrying to another seat, far, far in the back.

She didn’t know the whore could have dark feelings, or even knew hate. But the look she gave Samantha, a scornful look, a sorrowful glare, such heat told her she knew it all too well. Monica rested her head on the desk, copying Minos. His demeanor, though was far warmer, both thankful... yet embarrassed for what had transpired.

During that entire escapade, though, not a single other student entered.

Samantha finally took note of this, the events in the room, and in her mind, settled at last, and checked her cell. 8:45. Should I go start rounding them u- she began to think, but was answered as Peter poked his head into the room. He sniffed, nodded, and walked in, taking the seat closest to the door. The silence clung to the air as he sifted through a small organizer, finding a pen and a notebook... but Samantha could only let it be so long. She cleared her throat, and waved a hand at him –pretend or not, it was for her sake. Not his.

“So... “She began. “Did you, per chance, smell anyone else coming?” He nodded, and traced an A in the air. “Ayn? And the others.”

He simply shrugged, and put the organizer down, finally finding his notebook. It had a bright red cover, already covered in small doodles, even more as he opened it up... somehow drawing even though he was supposed to be blind. With his eyes still closed. H...

Samantha shook her head, sighed, and reached into her bag under the podium. It had been there since the first day, an extra note ready just in case she needed more time for students... or the thirteenth actually showed. But, since they never did, she retrieved the red maths textbook inside, instead. She looked through it, humming, mulling over every part if only to stop her head from throbbing, and found the perfect place to stop: the last review question of chapter 2, asking students to create a real life equation that would best exemplify all parts of the order of operations.

She cocked her head at it, though. PEMDAS/BEDMSA? I mean, they’re both right, but why the English version and the skewing of addition and subtraction? The entire reason the acronym exists is to easily remember it. Who would remember... Be Ethical. Dicks May Salvage Assholes. She chuckled. As true as that is, it’s still not as easy to remember as Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally.

She shook her head. As usual, it was better not to question it, and she turned to the whiteboard and started to reach for the markers when she saw a note posted on its surface.

There’s a built-in app for your text book on the task bar of your laptop. Should make it easier to teach.


You and your freakin notes, she thought, but placed the text book on the table off to the left regardless. She looked over the task bar... really, truly unsure of which one it was. Maybe it’s under the browser... Yeah. Yeah! It must be. Under bookmarks. Seems the simplest solution. Unless it’s that giant M, but I’ll try the browser f-

Someone cleared their throat,.

Ayn stood by the door. She was in a dark blue top this day, accentuated by her white bell-bottoms, ending in bare feet, while a brown messenger bag was slung over her left shoulder, filled to bursting.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” Samantha said, gesturing to the room. “Take any seat you want. Morning, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes, but did take a seat. The one right beside Minos, much to Monica’s disdain, once again proving to Samantha she knew more than lust. And knew it well. The daggers she stared into Ayn’s back could be felt, sharp and hard enough to kill lesser men, but Ayn wasn’t a lesser man. In fact, she didn’t even care, taking out a notebook and a pen. She clicked it, scribbled, getting the ink to rise on one of the many notepads plastered on its front, then pulled out a matching, red maths book. She hummed, flipping it open, mulling over its many hues of highlighters, ignorant to the world as one at a time each student took their seat.

Samantha clapped, breaking her focus, and smiled as she gave her a dirty look.

“Right. Morning, everybody,” Samantha exclaimed, hating herself for it. “As you all know, I am your PROFESSOR, Samantha Coffey. Last week I got to know you all, and it seems you already know each other, so let’s not waste any time and jump straight into maths, with order of operations. Before I open it, everyone knows how to add, right? Numbers?”

“Six plus nine is still a good time, right?” Minos said, and Samantha was both happy yet irked he was back to his normal self.

“I do believe it’s actually fifteen,” Junmei said. “What makes fifteen good, Serephan?”

“It’s not the number but the parts.”

“Six and nine? Or the one and five?”

“How can you be such a womanizer yet not know?”

“I am sorry, then. I am still not caught up with a lot of Western sayings.”

“It’s not even a Western saying!”

“Just shut up,” Ayn said. “Let it go.”

“But I shall not,” Junmei said. “What did you mean, Serephan? What is the importance of the six and nine or the one and five?”

“First off,” Minos blurted, trying hard to keep his voice even, “it’s the six and nine... you know, sixty-nine?”

“But neither number, when put into the other, becomes that.”

“Just how dense are you? Have you never heard of sixty-nining a girl?”

“And what act may that be?”

“It’s where you are licking your partner as they are sucking you off.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve never been in that position before.”

“No. I doubt you’ve ever been! I bet you know all about getting head, though.”

“But of course. It’s the most intimate a man and woman can be.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ayn blurted.

“You really shouldn’t get in this,” Norman said. Ignored.

“No! Is this snake mudslime serious! Gettin’ neck is considered the ‘most intimate’?”

“But of course,” Junmei said. “The man trusts the woman enough to allow one of his most precious, if not his most precious, body parts into a woman’s mouth, where she could easily bite and rip it off if she so chose-”

“If only one had for you!” Minos boomed.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” Ayn said. “Look at how you love to demand others to suck your tiny dick-”

“It’s not tiny!” … Samantha, Monica... and Bella all blurted... Thankfully, it was ignored as Junmei’s tail rattled. He pushed his desk aside.

“You dare, Jack?”

“My name is Minos. Serephan Minos.”

“No. Your name is Jack, and how fitting that if you throw the name of a donkey on the end of it there would be no difference between you or the animal itself! Except at least the pack animal would have a use.”

Minos also got to his feet, face, bearing down on the naga.

“Big words for someone who can’t even wear shoes.”

“Guys,” Norman said, catching Samantha off-guard as he rushed in between them. “Come on. This isn’t the time to fight. It’s only the first day.”

Junmei hissed, his hood shuddering, but kept shut.

“It’s not my fault I am not accustomed to Western culture or their many terms for lesser sexual acts.”

“Lesser?” Monica exclaimed, bolting to her feet as well. She thrust a finger into his shoulder. “Lesser... I’ll have you know, buddy, that there is nothing lesser about getting a girl off as well during sex.”

“And I am not saying it is, but if a man can’t get a girl off with his member alone, then he is not really a man.”

Ayn stood next.

“Uh, honey, I can honestly tell you that those thin sticks you call pricks wouldn’t even get a gnat off.”

Junmei’s hood fully opened, looming over her.

“That sounds like a challenge. Would you care to put that statement to the test?”

“I’d sooner fuck the gnat. Typical sandnigger to think a woman can only get off with his cock. News flash: ain’t no woman who would willingly want you down here.”

“That’s not-” Buffy began, at the same time Marcy started to say, “Well...”

But both were forgotten as Junmei smacked Ayn across the face.

“Don’t you ever call me that again,” he whispered. It was little more than a wisp, but the anger, the venom, the vehemence behind it coated Samantha in a veil of sweat. He slithered back to his seat, and Ayn didn’t even bat an eye as she took hers again, humming, looking through her books once more. Minos was the next to sit, Monica slinking back into her seat, leaving Norman, dear Norman, to lumber into his.

Meanwhile, a new voice, a new face decided to pipe in.

“Excuse me,” Bella said. Her soft, airy voice carried through the classroom with sinful ease, cutting the tension that had built the entire time. “Samantha? Can we start the lesson already?”

“R... right. Sorry,” Samantha said, and tapped the browser at last-

Filling the room with moans and squelches.

“Yes! Yes... FuuuuUCK yes! Fuck me! Yes!” The woman on the screen shrilled. Her tits bounced, smacking together as the man behind her drove his member deep inside. Her mouth was locked in an O as she looked down at it, that foot-long rod thrusting into her perfectly shaved pussy as her perfectly manicured nails rubbed her clit. She was on her side, her left leg raised, balls smacking against her hand, coated in a layer of pre. Another member rose in the scene, before her mouth, and she stroked it, sucking on its tip with such fervor. She took it all the way in, her moans choked a moment before she popped off, wailing. “Give it to me. Fuck my face. Fuck m-”

Samantha couldn’t pause it fast enough. Nor close the window sooner. Peter had dashed out of the room, slamming the door in his wake, reopened and thundering again by Ayn. Minos cheered, clapping as Norman shook his head. He had covered his eyes, his red hair shimmering with the light of the projector over him, while Junmei, Marcy, Buffy, Jack, and Monica of all people gave the screen, and her, a sour look. Only Lisa seemed unfazed, lost to her own little world, most likely the one on the other side of life, while Ginger was more than happy to hike her legs up on the desk and stroke her rotting folds... Thankfully, she was in the far back, but that didn’t take the burn out of Samantha’s cheeks.

She was fully awake, and sober, now, and her mind was working overtime finding how to salvage this situation.

“Well... I guess that jumps straight to a real-life example of the order of operations, doesn’t it?” Samantha said at last, and her face felt like it was on fire as she drew on the porn scene. She began with the outline of the bed, a simple set of brackets, then a pair of parenthesis around the woman’s lips –both sets. “As you can see, these men are working inside the P or B at the moment, themselves the exponents.” She drew a line between the woman’s legs, then an X on each rod. “They divided her legs and are multiplying the pleasure possible, possibly the human race if they aren’t careful. Then they are adding and subtracting how much inside to change the variables. P-slash-B, E, M-slash-D, A-slash-S since the last two pairs can be changed around. However, it rolls off the tongue better in that current order, doesn’t it? It, also, becomes a fun acronym. Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally.”

Or Be Ethical. Dicks Salvage Assholes... Oh, salvage me right now.

They were silent, though. Absolutely flabbergasted. With her, with the scene still on the board, with all of it... Thankfully, sweet, sweet Norman raised his hand.

“So... um... does this cover science, too?” He said, a wonder which was shaking more: his voice, or his body. “Biology and all?”

“And anatomy,” Minos added. “Can’t forget anatomy.”

“Moving on!” Samantha boomed, and her book boomed on the desk, echoes of it heard from the science tome several hours later. Each second of the clock was agony, wanting to pull the tears from behind her eyes. Her voice cracked on more than one occasion. Peter and Ayn did not come back for the rest of the day, which was for the best: the first chapter in the Art book had an enlarged picture of the Statue of David. She felt a bit disgusted, watched as Minos riffed on it, but was shocked when Monica silenced him.

“It’s art,” she said. Cold. “Show some respect.”

“Of course you would say that. It has a d-”

“It was sculpted by a true visionary, a man who had gotten too wrapped up in his own genius that it ultimately destroyed him. But he was a good man, a good friend, so watch your tongue.”

This quieted Minos, and even shook Samantha a touch. Monica’s smile never broke during that declaration, but it was the... weight behind those words. The... genuine care, the age and wisdom in them that didn’t really seem to work with a woman- a girl trying to become a whore... but what was important was the day was almost over.

Samantha was more than ready to call it, and took her sweet time to turn from the board when she declared it. She didn’t want any of them to see just how happy she was it was over, to be rid of them so she can go upstairs and p-

She jumped, and wheeled about. Bella had dropped her bag.

“Something wrong,” she asked.

“Oh. Nothing.”

“You sure? That was a loud squeak.”

She hadn’t even realized she had squeaked... she shook her head, then nodded.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just happy the day is over... Tomorrow should go by smoother.”

“I don’t know. That pussy was pretty damn smooth,” Minos said, and stood, grimacing at his pants. “It’s just a shame you soaked me this morning.”

“You did what now?” Bella blurted.

“I had to spray him and Monica with the water bottle. She was... being Monica.”

“Ah... Okay. Have a good one, Sam.”

Samantha waved after her, the last of her strength gone, and she collapsed into the podium. Tears wavered and blurred her vision, watching, waiting for the blot that was Minos to leave. She waited, and waited... and waited... but she simply couldn’t hold it back any longer. She cried into the podium, soft sobs quickly rising into ugly, angry wails. The room rung with each hit on it, slamming her palms, her fists onto its top, denting in as metal took over her knuckles and the room howled with wind.

And what did Minos do? How would he use this, make it into a joke? But of course she would break down! She was so emotional and clearly not fit for what she was doing! How he would hold this o-

He hugged her from behind, and shushed against her ear, stilling her shakes.

“Let it out,” he whispered, continuing to shush and comfort her. “Let it all out.”

“That... was... horrible!” She shrieked, her voice a horrid mix of cracks and croaks. “First there was the fight between everyone- no. First there was you and Monica, and I simply let it escalate. I should have reacted right off the bat.”

“You should have? I was fighting the urge to pummel her into the wall.”

“Do you mean that physically or sexually?”

“We’ll go with... yes.” He shuddered, snorting against her neck, and she felt something stir on her back. “The way she was touching my horns... hoo boy!”

She straightened herself, and pushed him away, glowering at him.

“Yeah. If you are going to fantasize about that, I need you to be a few feet ba-”

She watched as he reached into the desk she had put the water bottle and retrieved it. Metal started to rise from the ground, ready to block those sprays, to fling him back-

Only for him to blast himself in the crotch.

He cried out, doubling over a touch, but put it back before holding her again, chuckling.

“Okay,” he said, his voice a few octaves higher. “There we go... you may continue.”

“That... was not really necessary.”

“Oh, trust me. It was... go on.”

“Well, then there was... that. The whole... porn fiasco... This whole day was just bad.”

“Really? Bad? It went fine. Everyone found an instrument they liked, you did a good job with maths, had help from Junmei for the science-”

There was a knock on the door, but Junmei was already slithering in.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything too scathing,” he said, cupping his hands before him, “but I simply wanted to... apologize. I did not mean for it to escalate as it did, but I felt challenged. I still do not have the best grasp on Western culture, so I had no idea that Serephan was simply ‘being a bro’, as Norman put it, when he was calling me out on it.”

“Oh. Really?” Minos snorted, crossing his arms. “Yeah. I was simply messing with you... but, really, you should consider rethinking what ‘lesser’ sexual acts are.”

“I know, and I shall. I was incredibly out of line today... I’m sorry, Samantha.”

He wheeled about and left the room, but he might as well have lit a fire, making Samantha a bit happier. She sniffled, and turned her attention to Minos again, grimacing.

“Seriously, does Lilith hate me this much?” She said, shooting a dirty look at her laptop. “Why did she have that set for the home page? Why didn’t she tell me which icon? No... I’m not trusting the technology in this place anymore. I’m not trusting anything she gives anymore.”

Minos simply shrugged. And groped her rear, making her squeak. Again.

“Whatever you say, teach,” he said, and thrust against her, chortling. “Besides, we all know the real thing is the best.”

Samantha rolled her eyes, and eased him against the whiteboard before turning around and grabbed her bag from underneath the desk. She felt his hands nearing her rear again. And slammed it back against him as she righted, smirking over her shoulder.

“Thank you for listening, Minos,” she said, “but I do believe you are due in your room.”

He bowed, fanned his arms, and smirked at her. “As you wish.”

He sauntered to the door. His tail peeked out from his pants, swishing, moving opposite of his hips, seeming to slow under her gaze, to swing wider. Her eyes trailed up his back, drinking up every inch of tanned flesh, the muscles under it. She blinked, and looked away as he looked back from the door, giving one last bow... one last chance to look at his waist, his pants sticking fierce, but was lost behind the steel.

She shuddered, and made haste to take care of her computer before heading to her room, where sleep would inevitably win over her want.

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