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Text:
It was a hot day, the sun beaming down its scorching rays. As the students file out of the classrooms, excited to go home to their air conditioners, one P.E. teacher enters into an empty classroom. Empty, save for a single girl.

. . . You actually came. Did you bring the money? . . . Good, looks like you’ve brought it all. And my grades? An A+ in your class for the rest of the year? What about my other classes? Hey, I’m not the one who wanted to do this. If you can’t do it, then I’ll just walk out of here. So? What will my grades be in the other classes? Good. Well then, I guess I’ll hold up my end of the deal. Go ahead, coach. My feet are all yours.

Wow, you really jumped in, didn’t you? Ugh, seriously though, I’m so sweaty. It’s so hot today, and our stupid school has no budget for air conditioning. And, coach, you made us run way too much today. You definitely did that just to make my feet extra sweaty, didn’t you?

Ugh, my feet reek so much. Their odor is so strong, I can smell it just by breathing. And this humidity only spreads it out more. How you can possibly enjoy such a horrid stench is beyond me. Geez. You’re not even listening, are you? You’re just huffing away at my foot stench, like some addiction mutt. Seeing you like this, I can’t even bring myself to look at you with any ounce of respect. This is one of my teachers? Nuh-uh. You’re no teacher. You’re just a loser. A dumb, pathetic, virgin loser who gets off to younger girls’ feet.

You know what? Let’s make it fun for me. From now on, I’m going to call you loser. And anytime you hear me call you that, you have to respond with yes, mistress. Got it? What, you don’t like it? Hey, loser. Go on. No? Fine, I’m going home. Let go of me! Choose, right now: your dignity, or my feet? Hey, loser. Good, that’s more like it. You may continue.

Heh, not bad. Having a loser should help me pass my school days by a bit. Just so you know, I’ll absolutely be calling you that in class, and I expect you to respond, got it? Aww, that desperate look on your face is so pathetic, begging me not to humiliate you. But nope, I own you now. I’m going to do whatever I want with you, and you’re going to obey, because you’re too addicted to my stinky, sweaty, repulsive feet to say no.

Description
www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/1174…

Text:
It was a hot day, the sun beaming down its scorching rays. As the students file out of the classrooms, excited to go home to their air conditioners, one P.E. teacher enters into an empty classroom. Empty, save for a single girl.

. . . You actually came. Did you bring the money? . . . Good, looks like you’ve brought it all. And my grades? An A+ in your class for the rest of the year? What about my other classes? Hey, I’m not the one who wanted to do this. If you can’t do it, then I’ll just walk out of here. So? What will my grades be in the other classes? Good. Well then, I guess I’ll hold up my end of the deal. Go ahead, coach. My feet are all yours.

Wow, you really jumped in, didn’t you? Ugh, seriously though, I’m so sweaty. It’s so hot today, and our stupid school has no budget for air conditioning. And, coach, you made us run way too much today. You definitely did that just to make my feet extra sweaty, didn’t you?

Ugh, my feet reek so much. Their odor is so strong, I can smell it just by breathing. And this humidity only spreads it out more. How you can possibly enjoy such a horrid stench is beyond me. Geez. You’re not even listening, are you? You’re just huffing away at my foot stench, like some addiction mutt. Seeing you like this, I can’t even bring myself to look at you with any ounce of respect. This is one of my teachers? Nuh-uh. You’re no teacher. You’re just a loser. A dumb, pathetic, virgin loser who gets off to younger girls’ feet.

You know what? Let’s make it fun for me. From now on, I’m going to call you loser. And anytime you hear me call you that, you have to respond with yes, mistress. Got it? What, you don’t like it? Hey, loser. Go on. No? Fine, I’m going home. Let go of me! Choose, right now: your dignity, or my feet? Hey, loser. Good, that’s more like it. You may continue.

Heh, not bad. Having a loser should help me pass my school days by a bit. Just so you know, I’ll absolutely be calling you that in class, and I expect you to respond, got it? Aww, that desperate look on your face is so pathetic, begging me not to humiliate you. But nope, I own you now. I’m going to do whatever I want with you, and you’re going to obey, because you’re too addicted to my stinky, sweaty, repulsive feet to say no.