The following very dark story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, racism, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is erotic FICTION not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and not meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.
"Thank you so much for helping with this Evan, especially on a Saturday," the Calculus teacher, Miss Waters tells me for the third or fourth time as I sweep debris towards the center of the room. She's doing the same thing but from her corner while the custodian is picking up larger pieces of debris and putting them in a special trash can.
Yesterday morning the entire ceiling of her Calculus classroom came crashing down. It rained down ceiling tiles, metal framing, light fixtures and much more. Covered every inch of her classroom. Thankfully no one was in the classroom when it happened, not even the teacher, so no one was hurt.
Well, two people were hurt, but they deserved it. Two dipshits had climbed up into the ceiling, having no clue about physics, which is funny as this is a high school. They assumed the ceiling, which is made of cheap ceiling tiles and frames, would support all of their fat asses. It did not.
In their quest to crawl over to the girl's locker room via the ceiling, they destroyed the classroom. They managed to climb up by getting on top of a bookcase, but once both tried crawling, the entire ceiling came down. From what I understand, one of them got stabbed in the ass with something. Nothing serious, it sounds pretty funny.
"No worries, Miss Waters. It's my school too, you know," I tell her, trying to give some words of goodwill that I know she will like.
Miss Waters is what my father would call a "hippy." She's very much a woman of the people, with her fantasy of everyone working together to make life great for all. So I let her think I'm here to support my school and do good deeds and all that instead of telling her I'm only doing it for my Senior Volunteer Hours.
"Goddam pieces of shit kids. May they get brain tumors and ass cancer," the cranky custodian says, again. He's not even part of our conversation. He just keeps repeating this anytime he has to put a heavier object into the trash. Miss Waters had been asking him to refrain from such speech, but she stopped knowing it is a losing battle.
"I know Evan, but to waste a Saturday in an empty school. Not fun for someone as popular as you are," Miss Waters tells me in her sweet innocent manner.
"Better to be here than getting in trouble," I respond as I have no idea what else I can say.
"Hey Babymaker, over here. Help me," the custodian says to me a few moments later.
I take a breath as that's the third time he's called me "Babymaker." You would think it is some sort of insult to refer to me as a woman, but it's not. He calls Babymaker because of the several classmates that are pregnant, where it is rumored I'm the father.
Miss Waters pretends not to hear this, again. In a way I find this funny as she pretends not to hear it so it doesn't hurt her moral sensibilities. Teens having sex, even if they are over eighteen is still something they shouldn't be doing in her opinion. That if you get such urges and are not married, you should take up some hobby.
Moving to the custodian, the two of us lift a light fixture and its frame. Well, I lift it. The older custodian pretends to help when he really lets me do it all. But after it is in the trash, he holds his back as if he just lifted the heaviest thing ever.
Smiling, I hate to admit that I like the old bastard. He has a unique personality and you always know where you stand with him. Plus, he just plain doesn't like anyone. There's a rumor that ten years ago someone tried to sue him for discrimination, but the court found he treats everyone like shit, so he wasn't discriminating against one group.
"Well, I'm going to wheel this to the dumpster, unless you ready to run off to Hawaii with me," the custodian tells Miss Waters as serious as can be. Miss Waters gets a curt look on her face as this is maybe the fifth time he's made that offer.
"No, I'm staying here, David. My boyfriend would most likely have words with you otherwise," Miss Waters says in a friendly tone, but I pick up she's being serious.
"Hey, Babymaker, why don't you go get some more trash bags. The few I brought aren't going to cut it," the custodian says as he starts to push the dolly/cart that is filled with debris. He pushes it slowly, not in a rush at all.
I sigh again at being called that name. If it was just the two of us, I would fire back with some insult of my own, but I don't want to do that with Miss Waters here. And it isn't because she is a teacher. She's a good person so if she doesn't want to hear that negativity, she shouldn't have to.
"You mind Miss Waters?" I ask her as she technically is in charge, not the custodian.
"No. It'll be good to take a break. It'll allow me to do An Act of Evil," Miss Waters says with a smile. I too smile, as "an act of evil" is her way of saying she's going to smoke a cigarette.
I put my broom against the wall and head out of the room, as does Miss Waters. She goes to the left and I go to the right. She'll head outside, behind the school while I'll go towards the front to get the trash bags from the supply closet.
One thing I find very odd about this school is that they've started playing white noise over the intercom. It plays all the time like background noise. You don't notice it when school is in session, but when the place is empty like it is, it's super odd to hear. In some places it is so loud you can't hear anything else.
Reaching the front hallway, which is next to the Commons, I go into the open supply closet. There I look around the surprisingly organized shelves, until I find the roll of trash bags. As I don't know how many we will need, I decide to take the entire roll and exit the room.
"Police, stop!" a woman's voice declares over the white noise, which is followed by running.
"Fucking great," I grunt under my breath as I know who it is...Cathy, the rent-a-cop. Or as she wants to be known, "Officer Mallord" but is actually known as the "Big Butch Bitch."
"What is it now?" I ask, turning around to see her literally running towards me as if I'm a fleeing robber. As she gets closer, I do get concerned as Cathy is a very big woman. If she tackles me, it'll hurt.
"Put your hands up and don't move!" She orders, finally slowly down as she gets closer.
"Why?" I ask, extremely confused. On purpose I don't do a damn thing. I'm not even sure if she's being serious or if this is some sort of stupid joke.
