Running for Home - 21. October 31, 2021

October 31, 2021

Welp, it’s Hallowe’en. I don’t remember them allowing the students to wear costumes quite this slutty back in my day. I heard some of the students talking about their costume plans in the halls earlier this week when they didn’t realize I was listening. I didn’t really think too much about it at the time, but today I have to say I’m actually a little uncomfortable with some of them. I can’t help but think this must be Emma’s influence. She seems to be much more permissive about the kids expressing their sexuality than anyone on staff was back in the day, and apparently on special days like today her permissiveness gets stretched even further. It doesn’t help that the kids here are all fit as fuck because of the physical training we put them through. Spring hormones and a bunch of teenagers is bad, but this tops anything I can remember.

But you know what? Maybe it’s a good thing if they are more sexually liberated than we were – at least with the way they express themselves. As long as they are being safe and no one is coercing or forcing anything it’s all good in my books. I mean, they live here on a co-ed campus. Shit is going to go down whether we try to prevent it or not. I’d rather we not bother, just give them the right education and access to contraceptives. The students have an abundance people to talk things through with here, so why the hell not? The discussions about sex, relationship dynamics and consent that we had in health class when I went here were pretty frank and open as it was, but there were some topics that weren’t really touched on enough - LGBTQ issues in particular. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like they ignored it. It was just a bit short and more along the lines of ‘it’s okay to be gay’, between 1-5% of Americans are LGBTQ, and so on. A bit of extension to that curriculum would maybe give us on faculty the confidence to let the kids do their thing and leave us (mostly) in safe territory. When it comes to teenagers and relationships in general there will always be hurt feelings and drama and all the bullshit whether they are having sex or not. There’s a lot to learn about life as a teenager, and having to learn some lessons the hard way is just part of growing up. As long as we don’t get STI oubreaks and teen pregnancies, I think we would be doing okay. Even then I doubt there is much that could happen to the students that we couldn’t fix or at least provide adequate support if push came to shove.

I wasn’t going to dress up originally. I really wasn’t, but Jubes and Xi’an badgered me until I broke down and said I’d do it. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to go as the Devil or do the vampire look, so I decided to go all out, do both and throw in some leather daddy action for a bit of flair. Tight leather pants, a studded leather harness binding my naked torso underneath a leather jacket, no shirt, leather army boots, a spiked dog collar, studded four-inch leather wristbands, fingerless gloves, and a bullwhip. All of it in black. I slicked back my medium-longish blonde hair and added a set of gorgeous fangs to my wicked smile and a teasing set of bone horns sprouting out of the top of my forehead just below my hairline.

Yeah, I looked smoking hot. An Agatha Christie-cum-Masters of the Universe wet dream. I loved the way my pecs and abs popped beneath the harness, how the lines of the straps and the hanging jacket drew the eye to the soft golden blonde hair circling my navel and plunging tantalizingly down into the low-rise waist of my leather pants that sat just above the level of my pubes. I even gave myself an erection just looking at myself in the mirror. I guess I’m just as bad as my students in the end, ha ha ha.

I got lots of interesting reactions. Emma asked me if I was taking some lessons from her battle fashions when I saw her on my way to breakfast. I only had the jacket zipper down about two-thirds of the way at that point so I told her I could teach with the jacket hanging open or completely off if she wanted. She was honestly considering it for a minute, but then Sean walked up behind us and said absolutely not. Emma pouted at him, and he actually blushed and then stuttered something about having it fully unzipped would still be okay. Seriously, when the fuck are those two finally going to hook up? Neither of them had a costume on yet (if they were going to dress up at all). Emma should have dressed up as a nun, but then again maybe that would have been too obvious a choice.

Jubilee choked on her cereal when I pulled my jacket off sat down next to her half naked with my pancakes. I guess she didn’t see me walk in the room. When I laughed at her she slapped my shoulder hard with a spark-charged hand and then asked me how any of my students were going to be able to get any work done in my classes. Jean-Paul, on the other hand, made absolutely no effort to hide his leering. I’m not sure if Piotr noticed his boyfriend’s wandering gaze because he was shooting me a mix of slightly shy and embarrassed grins. Jean-Paul was dressed as Sherlock Holmes and Piotr as Dr. John Watson. Jubilee was dressed up as Go-Go, the homicidal Japanese schoolgirl from Kill Bill. When Xi’an and Rachel joined us, they were doing their best Thelma and Louise impersonation. I guess I was the odd one out, sexing it up. Not that Jean-Paul didn’t look hot, but that’s pretty much every day for him. And Piotr too, really. God, I hate to admit it but sometimes I’m a bit jealous of Jean-Paul. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be enveloped by Pete’s big arms. It’s probably the safest feeling in the world. And then there’s the huge snake he’s got tucked in his pants. Bastard. He better be a shower and not a grower, or I might feel a little sorry for Jean-Paul. Then again, Pete could always be the bottom… Shit, that would be hot.

After breakfast finished I donned my jacket once again but left it open as I wandered to my classroom. I’ll admit it – I was strutting, the students were staring, and I loved every second of it. I was so high on a cloud that even when Bobby blundered into me coming out of the common washroom it didn’t phase me. He looked like he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or apologize - that is, until he realized what I was wearing. His jaw practically hit the ground. He just stared at me, looking up and down all flustered. I think his face blushed about fifty different shades of red, and it was hard to keep from laughing. A few did escape as I moved aside and started walking away, but when I got past him I turned around and smacked him hard on the ass with the still-coiled bullwhip. He yelped something fierce and jumped away from me holding his poor wounded butt. I turned around and kept walking before I could even see his face. I heard him growl something under his breath, but I couldn’t make out what it was because I was too busy laughing. I really don’t give a fuck what he said, anyway. Oh yeah, Bobby was dressed up as a priest – all the more reason for the leather daddy devil vampire in me to give him a taste of sin.

Pfft. Whatever.

The rest of the school day was relatively unremarkable, other than Julian nearly peeing his pants when I cracked the bullwhip to get everyone’s attention to start class. He was squirming in his seat whenever he saw me walking around the classroom anywhere near him with that bullwhip. Maybe I should lend it to Sophia sometime. Or maybe I should fucking stop thinking about enabling my students' sex lives, even as a joke in my internal monologue. Fuck, they may be of age and practically adults but they are still my students. I've already been in enough trouble from that spanking incident.

I got a rise out of my classes when I told them their assignment for the day was to write an erotic scene without any actual sexual content in it, using Hallowe’en as a situational theme. No kissing or heavy petting allowed, either. They could work on writing subtext, on characters physical features, on their movement, their voice, their breathing, their gestures. I’m curious to see what they came up with within that short period because they seemed a bit taken aback by the concept of erotica that doesn't include sex.

After supper, some of the teaching staff headed out to a bar for some fun. We weren’t planning on staying out late since it’s the middle of the week, but somehow that plan ended up getting lost along the way. Somehow I ended up drawing the short straw and was one of the designated drivers. Ugh. I mean it was fine, really. I’m just whining; we all have to take a turn at that duty. Considering how late we stayed out it’s probably best that I wasn’t drinking. If I had been, I probably would have got fucking loaded. Probably would have gone home with one or the other of the two guys who came up and not-so-subtly propositioned me to fuck them senseless. Heck, maybe I could have even had both at the same time. Who the fuck knows. I probably wouldn’t have been able to teach in the morning, though. Cock-blocked by goddamn responsibilities, yay.

If I’m being honest, I wasn’t really into those guys anyway. If I was straight or bi I definitely had some good opportunities with the ladies at the bar, but unfortunately that’s not the case. I know I said a while ago that I should try fucking a chick someday, but I really wasn’t feeling it tonight. I also think if I’m ever going to do that, I don’t want my friends around to see me go for it. It would be just way too awkward. That and Jubilee would never let me live it down, especially if the experiment turned out to be a complete disaster.

On that note, it’s been four months since Dominik left me. Four months since I last got laid. I didn’t even go out and have a slutty rebound sexcapade after he left, I was so angry and depressed. How pathetic is that? I’ve been busy in the interim, but that doesn’t explain everything. We were always disgustingly busy in the Brotherhood and Freedom Force, and I always found the time to have random hook-ups and even a couple short-lived relationships before Dom and I started to be a more and more frequent friends-with-benefits thing. Maybe being in a long-term relationship has made me less inclined to do the one-night-stand thing, or maybe I just don’t want to bother with empty sex anymore. Meh.

I was too horned up before bed, though, so I settled for a really hot jerk-off session. I started off watching some porn on my laptop, but once I got going I stopped paying attention to the screen and just closed my eyes and stroked my cock listening to the sounds. I got a bit naughty and started thinking about JP and Pete. Them making out. Maybe some muscle worship. Blowjobs. JP rimming Pete’s ass like a pro. A flip-flop fuck. Suddenly, though, it was a threesome, me in between them. Someone else joining us. Pete and JP move off to do their own thing while the new guy’s arms wrap around me and he kisses the back of my neck with his hard-on pressed into my crack. My hole twitching with anticipation. Being pushed down onto a bed, my eyes closed as maddeningly hungry lips devour my mouth. Opening my eyes to meet his hot, intense gaze as he penetrates me, getting lost in the warmth of those honey brown eyes. Another deep kiss. Fucking me, fucking me, hitting all the right places. Fucking me so hard, so fast, so good.

I cried out and came so fucking hard that it almost hurt. It was a huge load, the first shot flying over my shoulder, then hitting my face, my chest, all over my abs. My body continued to shudder and spasm for minutes after my release as my rapidly cooling cum dripped down my sides onto my bedspread. It was the best orgasm I’d had in years.

Fucking years.

What did I cry out at my climax? I couldn’t remember. I was too enraptured, too in the moment, and I had no idea what I said. I had no idea, that is, until I woke up in the morning and his name was on my lips. I almost cried, almost screamed. It took all my self-control to hold back from getting up and breaking shit. I swore to myself I wouldn’t go there anymore. I promised myself up and down that no matter what turn my life took I’d never again let him creep into my fantasies or into my dreams. He took up too much space for far too long, someone I’d never had a chance with and never would. I’ve tried so hard to suppress it, yet he was someone who was in my mind so much when I was being tortured in Iraq. So many fantasies, fantasies of being rescued by my knight in shining armor, of being enveloped by his infinite love. But that’s all they were, fantasies.

In some ways, I wonder if they helped keep me sane. I was used to having all those thoughts and fantasies of him in counterpoint with all the hurt and the heartache that I could never have him. Maybe it made sense, in a twisted way, that it helped keep me from losing it by withdrawing into my mind in the midst of all the physical pain and hurt and violence of the torture. And especially when it got worse, when it started being… when they started… Fuck, I can’t. I just can’t do this. I can’t think about it. I’m shaking now, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest.

Fuck you, Robert Louis Drake.

Fuck you for existing, for not letting me forget. And fuck me for still being so goddamn pathetic, two decades after I left this hell to get away from you.