Secret Games: The Art of Seduction(18+)

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05~ Naughty Lips

Mr. Stone speaks in an unconcerned, unfriendly manner. His voice has the same level of coldness as before. “Honestly, this assignment was given long back, and I except my students to be responsible enough to complete their tasks.”

Every student sitting ahead of me located in my range of visionary have a light smile on their faces. The terror Mr. Stone creates in the classroom is unexplainable. Even in a classroom of sixty rowdy students, all that sprawls is a wide expanse of silence. Everyone has his or her gaze anchored on the whiteboard. Suddenly it seems very uncomfortable for me to be surrounded by dozens of studious students; the same faces who was accustomed to gossiping and pranking in all classes, as if their digestion for the day depends on secretion of these main unscientific enzymes.

When none of the previous teachers were successfully in taming us (as it was phrased) including Mr. Olga Stone himself, when they themselves regretted and feared stepping in our classroom because of our pranks and hoaxes, when teachers were bound to resign, how can a certain someone produce such an adverse effect on us? Not to mention, it hasn’t been long until Mr. Olga Stone was substituted by his son.

Mr. Stone’s haughty look and ice-frost voice breaks my train of rumination. “Anyone who has failed to do his or her homework can stand up and confess the truth. I appreciate honestly.”

A feeling roams in my guys screaming that this appreciation of honestly offer is only reserved for certain students. He knows Ben and me, unlike the rest of the flock, have been dropping his lectures for the last week. He willingly wishes the two of us to surrender, but there rests no promise that his inner preinstalled gentle-mannered skills will appreciate the honestly. Though his expressionless face reveals no hint of food he’s cooking inside him, I take everything in negative.

Remember Luci, he didn’t reciprocate your good behaviour in the morning…

Calvin Stone resumes speaking, “Remember students this is the last chance to speak up!” His grey eyes scan the faces of all the students present in the classroom, reading emotions printed on the faces like a scanner. As hard it is to believe, there’s not a single vacant seat among ten rows. My subconsciousness catches his menacing stare upon me lingering for a little longer than it should have been. I force myself to divert my eyes to a different direction, thus breaking our lumbersome contact.

Our teacher awaits for students, who may willingly let their heads be beheaded, but I politely and respectfully decline the offer of proving my honesty.

However, no one responds which indicates the fact that the extraordinary bunch of obedient students have actually completed their assignments. My gaze revolves around the classroom in desperation to find someone who I can pair up with. A sparkle of hope is lightened in my head prematurely as my head is screaming out the name Ben Alders, the guy who decided to flee at my trouble hour. He must not have raised my hand considering the practical reasoning of my ideology. The consequences of admitting the truth and following the opposite way around weighs around the same punishment.

I relax on my seat, knowing in a class of sixty I have at least one person, except myself, in the category of disobedient students if not two or three.

Suddenly the relaxed nerves strain themselves involuntarily in noticing Ben handing the A4 sheet to Amanda. The colours peeking out from the folds is obviously resembles the delineation supposed to be done, and the blue scribblings of are the answers of the assigned questions.

The sight blows away my mind. Sinking down my head in between my hands, I try to think deeply. The word ‘BETRAYL’ gets imprinted on big fat bold red letters before my visionary. How worse can my life get? I can’t get expelled for not completing my work or can I?

Mr. Stone has already casted a bad impression of Lucifer Becker inside his mind. And the recent activities in which she been accused of for getting engaged has made me her his target for this semester.

“Hey, Mr. Stone is calling your name.”

My partner’s gentle whisper penetrates inside my ear, and interrupts my third person narrative. As the meaning seeps inside my cerebrum, I instantly stand up with a horrified expression.

My professor rebukes coolly, “Are you day dreaming in the class? I have called your name twice.”

“No sir, I am sorry. I was kind of lost.” I can hardly recognise my timid voice while standing in the eye of storm.

He comments, not refusing to let such a serious matter drop where my irresponsibility manifests. “In the land of fairies and unicorns?”

The silent class fills with roars of laughter. I stand there with a loss of words. Under normal situations for eg. situations involving no drying of throat, no hammering of heart, no eyes loitering at the hands of the clock, etc., I could come up with a good comeback. But in this case I prefer silence even before being arrested for bad manners by Mr. Stone.

Amanda, pausing her work, makes another silly announcement only to bring another roar of laughter. “Hoping that the Miss Imperfect finds her Mr. Perfect quickly so that she can be taught some manners.”

Everyone, including Ben, is enjoying a good free entertainment whereas, I am dying here out of embarrassment. However, the rule of exception only comes applicable to Mr. Stone as expected. Somehow for reasons unknown, Amanda’s sick way of cracking jokes didn’t quite beguile him, for his countenance stays sober. The blonde-haired lady has a loud mouth, and never fails to deliver piles of insult and shade at me.

Luci calm down. She is of lesser importance right now!

When no one comes forward to comfort me, I find my inner voice reaching to me in a pleasant manner. I try to adjust myself from breaking while fidgeting in my place.

“Is your assignment completed or is it sitting at the huge pending list of yours?” His voice stabs me with a knife. All my relaxation therapy goes in vain. The little advisor in my head slams shut her mouth, and refrains itself from offering any more advice.

The longer I take to respond, the deeper the frown gets on his face. With an of plastering a fake smile, I answer him with a nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely I’m, Sir.” I lie flatly even after knowing it’s impossible to produce the homework at such a short notice. The words simply escape my mouth before my mind approves of it. Realising the aftermath of my affirmations, a shiver runs down my spine.

Mr. Stone eyes me suspiciously, and commands me to sit down.

As I lower down my body, I notice a light simper spread across his lips. A very light which is hard to identify. But I’m confident from the corners of his mouth that the simper was not a figment of my imagination. It gave me an pre matured indication of my punishment. Immediately I acquire a sharp striking of pain which results into a severe hemicrania.

“Mr. Stone is kinda mad at you.”

Massaging my forehead I slightly spin to be able to catch the glimpse of my fellow partner. His emerald eyes are glistening with a sparkle of wisdom through the thickly black framed glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose.

“For reasons obvious!” I exclaim regretfully.

“Yeahh because….”

“Are you a geek?” I interject his because because of obvious reasons. But my way of interjection might have proved offensive for the other party.

The guy replies shyly, “Actually I’m not. I’m a guy with pretty much decent grades but some people call me boring.”

“The thick pair of glass said otherwise.”

He emits a ring of nervous laughter, and expresses his wish to a stranger more than politely. “If possible for once I want to be in the spotlight.”

Listening to his desires will provide no solution to my problem whatsoever. But most important I’ve not been trained with witchcraft techniques to find the cure of impossible problems.

I enquire him sweetly, “And be person about whom people gossip?”

“Better than getting called by the name of geek when you aren’t.”

“It can be because of the glasses which is affecting your personality.”

“I can’t help it.” A sigh lands in the air. Meanwhile I grab a quick view of our surrounding. On one side Amanda is approaching like the those hell guards, and on other hand the son of a donkey is taking the roll-call, that too with an expression of wanting to murder someone.

I comprehend his desire. Spotlight and be in the gossips which means almost to be in the center of attraction. And the two things can be achieved if troubles come in the equation. The wheels of my brain circuit run efficiently and faster than racing horses, and no time a devious plan evolves out.

“Do you seriously want to get involved in troubles?” I enquire him in a way which is sweeter than honey.

“Yes, at least once in my university life.”

“Are you telling me you never have been punished? Not even once?” My curiosity reaches its peak on meeting such an innocent kid.

He inclines his head in agreement. His face turns into a shade of crimson, and the look to be wanting to get vanished into the thin air emblazoned on his face.

“Oh man!” I breathe out with my eyes in traitorous glory of being a part of someone’s punishment tactics in my previous years.

“Is it that bad? My record I mean?”

Do you even have a record boy…?

I think a lot before saying it out loud. Pointing his flaws will be of no good if I wish to get out of the trouble immediately. Willingly to get my job done fast, I get into the formalities. “What’s your name?”

“John Carter.” He adds a dashing smile as his signature style.

“Definitely. It’s very much insulting for a university student. We all have had been caught on the charge of cheating in an examination, bunking classes or disobeying the teacher.” I place my hand on my chest, and squeeze shut my eyes breathing in the sweet memories. “This will create memories and will stay in a special place of your heart when you will grow up. You can narrate these glorious incidents to your children and grandchildren. Imagine how much they will laugh!”

I patter my eyelids letting light enter my vision. I take pleasure in noticing how much his face sinks down in sadness on hearing my remark.

“Today is your golden opportunity.”

He peeks up his drained face, and blink at me in bewilderment as if I’ve asked him his credit card details.

I speak boldly, but remembering to wear my smile throughout the length of our conversation. “Don’t submit your homework and that’s it. Simple as water.”

His eyes hesitantly drift away from mine. Unmistakenly he is no less than decorous boy.

“Look, I’m just providing a cure of your solution. The choice is upto you.” I bit my lip seductively, and pronounce the offer of declination in an alluring tone.

I’ve a good reputation for being the most renounced trouble creator here. Yet, they don’t abominate me. I have dozens of guys running after me. I secure pretty much average grades, like you and get promoted. My life is the perfect epitome of fun-filled university life. More over I’ve good stories to weave. The only difference between us is I don’t get called by the name of geek.”

“I am afraid Lucifer. I don’t think I can.”

“Luci.” I correct with a mouth full of smile.

“Yes Luci, I’m afraid.” He squeaks like a mouse too afraid to get out of his mole. In his ideology Mr. Stone is the cat anticipating for his prey.

“Of course, this is your first-time experience. But I’m sure you want some good memories, don’t you?” I wink at him.

“I will not submit my homework, right?”

“Smart answer. You can be quite impressive at times, you know, all you need is a little more efforts.”

I’m confident from his bodily movements, and pinky cheeks that his charms don’t quite work among girls. Receiving compliments in perhaps a distant thought. I’ve to admit the guy has looks, definitely not the face of some Greek god. But on a scale of ten, he easily can be graded eight to be minimum. Inspite of being blessed with looks, he has an unappealing kind of lifestyle.

“And what will happen to my grades?”

Decent guy just as I mentioned…

“You can submit your work tomorrow. No one from both the parties is running away so I don’t see a problem in grades.”

I scribble down my contact details in s scarp of paper, and let it be slipped on his lap. I mention the usefulness of contact details in a tone that is used to explain the sum of two plus two to a child.

“I’ll bring your homework tomorrow. All you need to do is submit it to him.” It doesn’t sound like a promise, but an order uttered in a cold voice. Am I inculcating my beloved teacher’s traits within me?

“But why would-”

I push forward my hand, indicating him to halt. I put forth an effort to break down my plan in simpler terms, “He can be smart enough to notice two assignments written in same handwriting. I want you to be safe, John.”


“Good I’ll.” He shoots back as soon as I retire from speaking.

“I can’t thank you enough!” I give a gentle squeeze to his hand to which he returns the favour like a gentleman.

After a quick high five, we again switch on to business mode.

I enquire him hastily while grabbing my pen and his assignment sheets, “Do you have your name details written in the assignment?”

I see Amanda collecting papers from the last-third bench, and I know instantly I need to get this quickly. The more the girl comes closer to our bench, the more intensive earthquakes waves begin to quiver the floor underneath my feet. However, the cause of earthquake in the last bench is my partner, not some natural forces.

John opens his mouth to let known his presence known. “Luci, I…I…” he stumbles stricken by fear, unable to finish the sentence.

I locate a storm of confusion raising in his eyes. For the final push, I place my fingers on the top of John’s hand, and say in an assuring voice. “I need to get out of trouble and you need to taste the flavour of trouble. This unpredictable son of a biscuit, Mr. Stone that is, can have be expelled. You’re the one to help me out since you’ve a better reputation than me in front of him.”

I watch as the clouds of hesitation disport from his eyes.

“I’d love to help you, Luci.”

He provides me the assignment papers as promised and very cunningly, I write my roll number and name in a writing style similar to his. I don’t care to go through his answer but I make sure to check whether he has completed every bit of his work.

Perfect! Now Mister will see.

“Papers?” I stare at Amanda standing near my desk, and demanding for the papers.

“Here you go.”

I position my piece of assignment on the stock of papers. Miss Gloria’s astonished face is something I find a masterpiece needed to be have built a vault to kept securely inside. She shakes down her thoughts, and sadly moves to John.

Pretty much pathetic when you miss the chance to insult a person, who is your opponent.

To this thought I consider something more amusing: Mr. Hot headed Cold Hearted’s expression. I’m more than convinced on the subject he had a simper on his face.

“John, hand me the assignment.” Miss Gloria’s unassertive mood gets reflected in her gist.

“I haven’t done my work.” John puts on a brave face while responding. For him it seems like a big task needing rounds of applauses.

She shrugs and drifts her gaze to Mr. Stone, and like the teacher’s pet, she makes the announcement in the air obediently. “SIR JOHN HAS FAILED TO COMPLETE HIS WORK.”

Mr. Stone is turning to the lesson planner from the attendance register when the board cast of announcement happens. He directs a bitter look at John, interrogating him discretely through his eye movements.

I softly let my foot batter against his to bring him back to the earth. He jolts up in his place horror stricken.

Mr. Stone remarks firmly, “Did you?”

“I……So..rry.” Two words placed in a grammatically incorrect manner escapes his cold blue lips.

Mr. Stone focuses his attention on Amanda, and asks, “Anyone else who followed his example?”

You want to hear the name of Lucifer Becker, don’t you?

Both Amanda Gloria and Calvin Stone should be roasted in hell. They will surely serve a good dinner to the demons living there.

“No, Sir.”

I hear a gulping voice from beside me. This earns him another kick.

“Alright.” Mr. Stone acknowledges with a stoned face. Surname matched to his performance!

Amanda amble at his desk. and place the pile on his desk. Later she offers him a helping hand to which our Professor replies in his usual tone, maybe the tone is little stonier but hardly one can understand his variations of tones. “Good job but I can arrange them roll-wise. Take a seat, Miss Gloria.”

She takes her seat in the first bench. While, he begins the arrange the papers according to roll number. He roughly goes through the assignment while sorting them and his expression alternates at irregular intervals between being content and annoyed. But finally, his face demonstrates a complete different facial expression which makes me heart thump faster.

Did he catch my trick?


Hello my dearies,

A very warm welcome to my beloved new readers in this Secret Games Family. I’m delighted to meet your acquaintance (curtsies deeply). I believe you guys can best judge my book. Do give feedbacks or opinions on my work. Also turn the little heart black if you enjoy reading it and extend your support.


Miss Lean


Hemicrania- Pain in one side of head.

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