[EN] The Perverted teacher is trying to corrupt me, and my fiancé has no idea #01 (Patreon)

<The Perverted teacher is trying to corrupt me, and my fiancé has no idea #01>

The unfamiliar morning air of Tokyo still hadn't grown on Yoshino. Born and raised in a small provincial town, the dense forest of buildings outside her window and the ceaseless urban noise remained an alien background track even after nearly a year. Waking up to her alarm with a struggle, Yoshino sat on her bed in a daze for a moment. It was a moment when the silence of her one-room apartment felt particularly loud. She soon shook her head, got up, and headed to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror showed a youthful face still heavy with sleep. After a meticulous face wash, her day was filled with the process of crafting herself into a teacher.

Pausing before her closet, her hand stopped at a neat white blouse and a navy pencil skirt that slightly covered her knees. It wasn't flashy, but it was an outfit sufficient to give an intellectual and elegant impression. As she changed, the curves of her slender yet balanced body were reflected in the mirror. Though she wasn't conscious of it herself, her feminine silhouette was distinct even within her restrained attire. She combed down her neat bob hair that just grazed her shoulders and finished with light makeup that only added a touch of vitality to her lips. Before stepping out the front door, she suddenly nibbled on her fingernails out of anxiety. Rather than excitement for a new day, the tension of potentially making a mistake loomed larger.

The school gates of the prestigious private Seio Academy were full of student vitality from the morning. The boisterous noise and bursts of laughter from all around eased Yoshino's tension a little. "Good morning, teacher!" Several students recognized her and bowed, and Yoshino responded affectionately with her signature eye-crinkling smile. Her pure and warm demeanor was already popular among the students. Although she was still clumsy and awkward in her role as a teacher, she was genuinely happy in the moments she made eye contact with the children.

"Yoshino, you're early."

Hayato Tachibana, who was on morning patrol near the playground, spotted her and approached with a bright smile. Tall, well-built, and with a good-natured impression, PE teacher Hayato Tachibana. He was a colleague hired the same year as Yoshino and was now the lover she had promised to marry.

"You too. You're working hard from the morning."

A natural blush bloomed on Yoshino's face. Hayato brushed a small speck of dust off her shoulder with his shirt sleeve and whispered low. "You look even prettier today. Let's have lunch together later." At that one affectionate word, Yoshino's heart warmed like sunshine. She nodded, and Hayato's eyes, watching her back as she headed to the faculty office, held deep affection. However, deep within that gaze, in a darkness no one could notice, a completely different desire squirmed. The imagination of that pure Yoshino being horribly trampled by someone other than himself. That perverted pleasure momentarily made his lower abdomen feel heavy.

Sitting by the window in the faculty office, computer teacher Daisuke Iwata pretended to read a newspaper while not missing the sight of Yoshino entering the school gate. His small, drooping eyes glinted insidiously. In his early 50s, he was a veteran awaiting promotion to vice-principal, but his insides were filled with rotten, festering desire. From the moment Yoshino was first assigned to the school, Iwata had marked her as 'delectable prey.' Young, innocent, and beautiful. She was the perfect existence to ruin with his own dirty hands.

Iwata's sticky gaze blatantly scanned Yoshino's body. From the slender waist revealed under the neat pencil skirt to the curve of her perky buttocks, and even the silhouette of her full breasts felt through the blouse. He imagined the innocent-faced teacher wearing gaudy makeup like a bar hostess and shaking her body in front of him. An unpleasant excitement, as if his crotch were throbbing just from the imagination, swept over him. He muttered with a greasy smile. "Well then, shall I have some fun with that innocent teacher this year?" In his head, a cunning plan to bring Yoshino Fujii to her knees at his feet was already being drawn up step by step.

Yoshino sat at her desk and took out her teaching materials from her bag. The excitement from the meeting with Hayato just moments ago had settled down calmly. Opening the textbook for the upcoming first-period math class, she was lost in thought about how to explain things more easily to the children. She had absolutely no idea. The two gazes reaching out toward her. One was a twisted desire hidden under the name of love, and the other was a predator's gaze filled with blatant malice and greed from the start. A black, sticky shadow was slowly casting over her seemingly peaceful daily life.

The bell signaling the start of the first period rang long down the hallway. The students' boisterous noise subsided in an instant, and a calm tension settled in the faculty office as well. Yoshino took a deep breath and stood up. A surprise pop quiz on the function unit learned last week was scheduled for the first-year class 2 math period today. It was her own plan to check the students' skills midway and refresh their concentration. She opened the prepared exam file and sent a print command to the shared printer in the faculty office.

However, for some reason, the printer only made a loud noise and didn't spit out the paper. A red warning message reading 'Paper Jam' was blinking on the display window. "Oh my..." A small sigh escaped Yoshino's lips. With class time approaching, a look of panic quickly appeared on her face as she ran into an unexpected problem. She opened the printer cover with clumsy hands and looked around, but no crumpled paper was visible. Her appearance, fidgeting and just touching her fingers, was exactly that of a novice in the workforce.

That was when it happened. A greasy voice came from behind her. "Oh my, our Teacher Yoshino. Wrestling with a machine from the morning?" Turning around, it was Iwata. He had risen from his seat at some point and was standing right behind Yoshino. He was wearing a genial smile, but his small, drooping eyes were scanning Yoshino's flustered face and impatient gestures as if they were interesting. "Shall I help you a bit?" He stepped in close to Yoshino's side without even waiting for an answer.

Instantly, an unpleasant body odor mixed with musty perfume and sweat assaulted Yoshino's nose. Yoshino flinched slightly without realizing it, but Iwata leaned toward the printer without a care. His heavy shoulder brushed against hers, and his oily cheek came close to her cheek. "Let's see... for things like this, you open this part slightly..." Pretending to explain something, he groped the unseen inside of the printer with his hand. In the process, his forearm deliberately rubbed heavily against Yoshino's back.

Yoshino's whole body froze cold. It was obvious sexual harassment, but it was a subtle contact that could be dismissed if he insisted it was a 'mistake.' As a new teacher, she didn't have the courage to openly express her displeasure to him, the school's old guard. She just held her breath, hoping this unpleasant moment would pass quickly. As Iwata's greasy fingers fiddled inside the printer a few times, miraculously, the machine started working normally. "There, done, right? Teacher Yoshino is pretty, so leave these dirty jobs to an old man like me." He patted Yoshino's shoulder with a satisfied smile. His touch lingered unnecessarily long.

"Ah... Th-thank you, Department Head." Yoshino barely squeezed out her voice and bowed awkwardly. Her face was burning red with shame and anger. As if enjoying her reaction, Iwata blatantly scanned her face and chest with lecherous eyes before returning to his seat. Whirrr— The exam papers started printing one by one, but Yoshino couldn't do anything. A sense of loathing, as if a dirty bug had crawled over her body, wrapped around her.

She gathered the exam papers with trembling hands. Her steps toward the classroom, which would normally be filled with excitement to meet the students, were heavy as lead today. Throughout her walk down the hallway, Iwata's sticky gaze and unpleasant body odor followed her like a hallucination. She forced a smile and opened the door to the first-year class 2. "Okay, everyone quiet! Before we start class today, we're going to have a simple test." Small groans erupted among the students, but Yoshino's head was already tangled with other thoughts. She didn't know. That the small incident just now was merely the beginning of a giant spiderweb that would ensnare her.

In Iwata's aged eyes, the sight of Yoshino Fujii struggling in front of the printer came into view. To him, that scene appeared not as a colleague in trouble, but as a scene as delectable and interesting as a butterfly flailing in a spiderweb. Pretending to read the newspaper, he was thoroughly scanning every bit of her with the corners of his eyes. The tight pencil skirt hugging her slender waist revealed the curves of her perky buttocks dangerously every time she moved. He cleared his throat involuntarily, feeling a stiff heat rising in his lower body. 'The young bitch has a hell of a body.' Repeating obscene words in his mind, he intuitively felt this was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh my, our Teacher Yoshino. Wrestling with a machine from the morning?" He deliberately feigned a genial voice and stood up. Watching the bewilderment settle on Yoshino's face as she turned around, startled by the sound of the chair dragging, he felt a thrilling sense of superiority. That innocent look, not knowing what to do over a small matter, was the characteristic of the prey he liked best. "Shall I help you a bit?" He strode over as if he had already heard a 'yes' and stood closely right behind her back.

As he deliberately pressed his body against hers, the faint scent of shampoo and the sweet body odor of a young woman tickled his nose. He soaked in a lecherous pleasure, imagining covering her scent with his own musty perfume and sweat-mixed body odor. "Let's see..." Pretending to stick his head inside the printer cover, he slowly pressured her tender back with his heavy body. When his forearm touched her back, the texture of her soft flesh and the faint trembling felt through the blouse were transmitted directly. He felt her hold her breath and stiffen. This is it. The helplessness of loathing yet not daring to push him away. Iwata felt a joy close to a desire for conquest in that minute reaction.

He actually knew instantly what was wrong with the printer. But he deliberately stalled for time, continuing unnecessary movements behind her back. Pretending to touch the internal rollers with his fingers, he moved his arm cunningly to graze past Yoshino's back and waistline. The more her body tensed up, the more a satisfied smile hung on his lips. It was a pleasure like subduing an untamed baby animal. Finally pulling out the crumpled piece of paper, he put on a triumphant expression. "There, done, right? Teacher Yoshino is pretty, so leave these dirty jobs to an old man like me."

His words contained both the mockery that 'you are just a pretty child' and the authority that 'I am a capable senior who can help you.' He deliberately patted Yoshino's shoulder. Her shoulder trembling slightly under his palm felt as if it had become his possession. Looking down at her face burning red with shame, he imagined the day that pure face would be distorted with pleasure and humiliation in front of him someday. "Th-thank you, Department Head." Watching her thank him in a crawling voice was no different from the best foreplay to him.

Returning to his seat, Iwata let out a satisfied sigh. The front of his pants was bulging embarrassingly high. He cleared his throat and covered his thighs with the newspaper. It wasn't simple physical contact. This was a declaration of war. He began to make detailed plans on how to cook that innocent math teacher, how to trample on her pride and purity to make her submit at his feet. Watching Yoshino's back as she headed to the classroom gathering the exam papers with trembling hands, he licked his lips as if he had already completely captured her. Today was just a taste. The real 'lesson' was starting now.

In the afternoon, when the day's commotion had subsided and even the final homeroom was over, Yoshino's body was heavy as lead. The afterimage of the unpleasant incident she experienced in the morning persistently gnawed at her nerves. Throughout packing her things and leaving the faculty office, she found herself looking around in case she ran into Iwata, and let out a self-deprecating sigh. The silence of her small one-room apartment, a space just for herself, was desperate.

In front of the entrance shoe rack, Yoshino bent down to take off the comfortable flats she wore in the office and slip her feet into the black high heels she had worn in the morning. It was that very moment. As she bent her waist, the pencil skirt tailored to fit her body pulled tight, revealing the contours of her buttocks entirely. The voluptuous curves of the two round mounds rising up and the panty line faintly visible between them. Iwata was watching that sensual spectacle breathlessly from the corner of the hallway a few steps away.

His oily eyes glistened greedily. 'Fucking bitch... Look at that plump ass.' His head was already filled with dirty imaginations. The impulse to place his palm over that tight skirt, knead it lewdly, and slap it with a smack heated his lower abdomen. While Yoshino's slender fingers fastened the ankle straps, his gaze was fixed solely on her twitching butt crack. He was seized by the conviction that he must be the first to taste, dirty, and tame the female body hidden behind that innocent face. The front of his pants swelled painfully.

Almost simultaneously as Yoshino straightened her waist and stood up, Iwata walked out from the corner with a nonchalant expression. As if he had just spotted her. "Oh, Teacher Yoshino is leaving now too." At that voice, Yoshino's shoulders flinched and stiffened. He was the person she wanted to run into least today. "Yes, Department Head. I'll be heading out first." She tried to pass him after bowing as politely and quickly as possible.

But Iwata moved one step to the side as if blocking her path, cutting off her retreat. "Perfect timing. I'm on my way to the subway station too, let's go together." It was a tone closer to a notification than a suggestion. A look of trouble crossed Yoshino's face. She couldn't say no. Refusing the kindness (?) of a senior teacher here was an action perfect for being branded as a 'rude rookie.' The fear of reputation, her biggest weakness, instantly paralyzed her tongue. "...Yes, Department Head." A voice the size of a mosquito barely leaked from her lips.

The short walk out of the school to the subway station felt like an eternity to Yoshino. The clacking sound of her high heels hitting the paving blocks sounded unusually loud. Iwata deliberately walked closely next to her, rambling on about trivial things. "Did the pop quiz go well today? The kids were complaining that Teacher Yoshino's tests are hard." He laughed genially, but his eyes were glancing at her profile and her breasts, which shook slightly with every step.

Yoshino answered almost in monosyllables and fixed her gaze on the ground. The musty body odor wafting from Iwata was disgusting, and his very presence felt right next to her came as a suffocating pressure. "It must be nice to be young, Teacher Yoshino. Full of energy even in heels." He subtly brought up her attire and youth as a topic, not withdrawing his sticky gaze. That gaze felt like invisible hands groping her body.

When the subway station entrance finally came into view, Yoshino felt almost saved. "Then, I'll be going in first. Get home safely, Department Head." She hurriedly said goodbye and turned toward the stairs. "Sure, get home safe. See you tomorrow." Iwata stared piercingly at her back with a meaningful smile. Throughout her descent down the stairs, his insidious gaze landing on her back, especially her buttocks, felt hot like a brand. Only after entering the crowded platform did Yoshino finally exhale the breath she had been holding all at once. But the dirty sensation, as if she had touched filth, was not easily erased.

Swept away by the subway crowd and barely managing to pull her body out, Yoshino could only breathe a sigh of relief after entering the alleyway leading to her home. The street where the sun began to set was cluttered with people getting off work and students leaving school, but to her, any noise was easier to endure than Iwata's sticky voice. However, the dirty feeling didn't disappear. Her shoulders and back, where his gaze had touched, seemed to burn unpleasantly. She only had the thought of wanting to take a shower with hot water quickly and wash away everything that happened today.

As the entrance to the three-story villa she lived in came into view, Yoshino's steps quickened a little. It was right then. From the dark shadow behind a parked car, a figure in a familiar school uniform popped out. "T-Teacher...!" As Yoshino stopped in surprise, a male student blocked her way. It was Kenta Sato from the first-year class 2. A student who usually stared at her piercingly during class or came to the faculty office with trivial questions. His face was flushed red, and a clumsily wrapped small gift box was in his hand.

"Kenta-kun, what brings you here at this hour?" Yoshino calmed her startled heart and used her voice as a teacher as calmly as possible. But instead of answering her question, Kenta thrust the gift box forward abruptly. "Teacher, this... please accept it. I... really... like you, Teacher!" His voice trembled anxiously, and his eyes glistened with fanatical heat. Yoshino's face hardened. "Kenta-kun, I appreciate the thought, but a teacher cannot accept things like this from a student. And this behavior is very wrong. Go home immediately." She sternly refused and tried to pass him.

Then, a desperate Kenta suddenly grabbed her arm. "I don't want to! Please, Teacher! Just acknowledge my feelings once!" At the unexpected force, Yoshino's body stumbled and was pushed against the cold outer wall of the villa. With a 'thud,' her back hit the wall, and her handbag fell from her hand to the ground. Kenta held her by both arms and pleaded, almost sobbing. "Please... huh?" His flushed face came right up to her nose. Yoshino's face turned white with fear and bewilderment. "Let go! Kenta-kun, let go of my hand right now!" As she struggled and resisted, Kenta suppressed her even more desperately.

Iwata was watching this entire scene breathlessly from inside a black sedan parked across the street. He had pretended to part ways at the subway station but had secretly tailed her. He took out his smartphone quietly with a sinister smile. As he zoomed in with the lens, a perfect composition was captured. A female teacher pinned against a wall by a male student, unable to move. Her expression, resisting in fear, looked like lovers engaging in a passionate act depending on the angle. Her blouse button had come undone from the violent movement, revealing a faint cleavage, and her pencil skirt had ridden up to her thighs. It was the perfect prey.

Click, click. The silent camera app captured the appearance of the two continuously. Iwata pressed the shutter cunningly, focusing on Yoshino's humiliating appearance while keeping the student's face out as much as possible. Startled by Yoshino's shout that was close to a wail, Kenta eventually let go of her arm and ran away in a hurry. Left alone, Yoshino leaned against the wall and gasped for breath for a while. Without even thinking to fix her disheveled clothes, she picked up the bag that had fallen on the ground with trembling hands and disappeared into the villa's common entrance as if fleeing.

Iwata checked the photos he just took and smiled a smile of triumph. Yoshino in the photo looked incredibly obscene and depraved. A pale face, an unbuttoned blouse, a skirt revealing her thighs, and an appearance as if embraced in a male student's arms. It was 'evidence' sufficient for anyone to suspect an inappropriate relationship between a teacher and a student. "Heh heh heh... This innocent bitch. Now you're going to play right in the palm of my hand." He muttered with satisfaction and stroked Yoshino's face on the smartphone screen obscenely with his greasy finger. It was the moment a trump card that could grasp the honor and life of the pure teacher Yoshino Fujii entirely entered his grasp.