The Crazed Janitor

This story is a work of fiction which contains strong elements of great humiliation, racism, non-consent and abuse. Please do not read any further if any of these elements bother you. Such acts should never be done in real life.

*****

I smile a wide smile, one that I rarely ever smile as I race out of the classroom. I was right and the teacher wrong! I know I'm an adult as I am 18, (turned 18, 3 months ago!) but it still gives me a little pick me up when I'm able to show I was right when a teacher was wrong. On the test I got back in Math, she had marked two test answers as wrong and I was able to show her I was right. She even said she believed me without checking, as I'm one of the smartest people in the school.

Having to talk to her did cost me though. Now I might be late to class to my next class, and I'm never late! With this in mind, I walk very fast, almost running down the hallway. I probably have under a minute to get there.

As I move down the hallway, I keep my head down as I pass by the other people and crowds. It's silly, but I hate standing out. You know? I just don't like people looking at me. It's not that I'm disliked or anything, just...I'm shy. And do my best to make sure I stay in the background. I like being where I am, the smart girl that no one really knows. Which is easy to do since there's nothing that makes me stand out physically. I'm just another black girl in a very diverse school.

Then time seems to slow down as I see it happen. Like some magic spell was cast, I watch it all happen, powerless to stop it. HE turns the corner from a joining hallway. HIM. The crazy janitor. And I'm feet from him, practically running. With all my might I try to stop or change course but I can't. I'm going to run into him.

WHAM.

I run straight into him...and the coffee he has holding. He barely moves as he is so much bigger than I, but I stumble backward as if running into a brick wall. But the coffee...the coffee spills all over the front of his shirt. All of it spills and from the looks of it, it was very hot.

Oh what have I done? HIM. He's the one everyone talks about. The one that's been to jail most of his life. The one that has murdered before! Oh, how many stories have I heard about him? They say that he has kidnapped students before. That when someone goes missing, he got them. That's why you never go in the halls during class or after school unless you are with someone. Some even says he likes to eat the flesh of the family members of those he kills!

In shock and horror, I stand there like a deep caught in the headlights. Oh. What have I done?!

----

"Hey Jim, needed a coffee break?" One of the teachers calls out and I wave back with a smile. As the custodian/maintenance man here at this school, I know all of the teachers and am friends with a lot of them. When I walk down any hallway most wave and give greetings. The kids of course rush out of my way as if I was the star monster in a horror movie.

I know they talk about me and make up who knows what sort of rumors about me. This is surely payback for when I was a kid and did the same thing. Many, many years ago I had an IED blow up next to me, leaving my face with a good number of scars. This combined with my uniform does make me look a bit, well, menacing, but anyone that's ever talked to me for more than 10 seconds know nothing could be further from the truth. I do admit, it does get tiresome to see so many people scared of you day after day for no reason. Especially when I see the looks of terror on their faces. Sometimes it makes me down right angry.

I sigh over this as I turn the corner of this hallway, thinking that I'll head to the lounge to enjoy my fresh cup of coffee.

WHAM!

Great. Just Great. Some kid ran right into me, right into my coffee. It splashes all over my shirt, drenching it. Thank goodness it wasn't hot coffee but mildly warm otherwise I would be in trouble. But I was looking forward to drinking it.

I look to the kid about to say 'excuse me' as I really wasn't looking. It's a girl. An older girl, most likely a senior here. She stands there like a statue, staring at me as if I have gun aimed at her face. For a moment I think the blow must have knocked her silly. But then I see her eyes. She's scared. She's scared because it's me. The crazy, weirdo, murdering janitor that eats cats or whatever.

Something about the way she looks at me really bothers me. He's not just scared, she's terrified. She really thinks that I'm about to murder her or something. How dare she be so scared? She doesn't even know me! I never seen her before yet she's so scared she could probably pee her pants.

"You!" I say, making my voice deep and grave. I don't know what I'm doing, but it sort of feels right. "I outta pour the loot and coffee over your doggie's grave!" I tell her, making it sound as crazy as possible. Hey, if she wants me to act crazy, I'll be crazy! I'll show her something to be scared of! Especially since there's no teachers or other students around right now, and even if there were, they would probably get a good laugh at this.

"This be my baptism cloth and you flattened it!" I tell her as I point to my coffee filled shirt. "For that, you best be at my house of dirt, prepared for the education of the sun! Now go!" I say, starting to shake comically as I make my voice sound like broken glass. I shake my fist as she runs down the hall, having to serious control myself or else fall to the ground laughing.

Oh god. That was hilarious. She really believed I was that crazy! Once she turns the corner of the last hallway, I start to laugh. I laugh and laugh, having to hold to the wall to keep myself upright. Oh, I needed that. I really did. Oh, what a nice piece of revenge.

----

"Girl, you alright?" The girl sitting next to me in class asks. I barely notice this is the 3rd or fourth time she's asked this.

"Oh, yeah," I answer, forgetting that I'm even in class at the moment. All I can do is play and replay what just happened. Oh, what mess have I gotten myself into? The janitor's words keep sounding in my head, damn near blocking everything else out, even the teacher. And this is my fav class too! All I seem to concentrate on is what he said.

"I outta pour the loot and coffee over your doggie's grave. This be my baptism cloth and you flattened it. For that, you best be at my house of dirt, prepared for the education of the sun! Now go." That's what he said. That's what he told me. I remember every word because that's what I'm good at. And my gosh, he is just as crazy as they all said he was. And now I have to figure out what he means. What does he want?

I know what he wants, but I can't bring myself to believe it. He wants me to go to his office. Right? "Best be at my house of dirt." He cleans all day right? That's the dirt part. And his office is where he spends most of his day, so it would be his home. But what is he planning to educate me with? Not anything good for sure.

I know I should tell a teacher. Heck, I should tell the police or SWAT! But if I do, what will happen if they don't believe me? Or worse, if they investigate but find no proof? Then the crazy janitor is going to be beyond mad! And they say that if you really make him mad, he not only goes after you, but your entire family. I know I messed up, but I can't get my family hurt. They didn't do anything wrong...I did.

The entire class period I take no notes and barely listen. All I do is try to convince myself of what I need to do. And that's to go to his office. If I don't, he'll come after me. He'll probably do it at night when I'm home, and my family will pay the price. I'm going to have to do this. He wouldn't do anything that bad right? Not at school at least. Right? Right?

The next thing I know...I'm in the empty last hallway of the school in front of his office door during the next class change. I stand there, staring at the door, trying to will courage to come inside me. Then the bell rings for class to begin, knocking sense into me. I have to do this! I have to! What choice to I have?

With a trembling hand, I knock on the door.

--

I'm inside my custodian's closet, or what everyone else calls 'an office' even though it's small and has shelves filled with paper towels, rags, and various cleaners. I'm currently rewiring the floor buffer's ignition switch as it keeps turning off, when I hear a knock on the door. I don't get up as it's probably some kid playing a prank, you know, knock on the crazy man's door then run like hell before he answers it. Then another knock sounds about 20 seconds later.

"Yeah?" I ask opening the door. I see a very scared black girl there and she looks vaguely familiar. It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up but I realize it's the girl from the hallway, the one that spilled my coffee. Stunned doesn't begin to cover how I feel. The look of terror on her face...the way she's shaking...it's just all too much.

"What?" I ask very rudely as I feel anger building in me. How dare she be so scared of me? How dare she be so naïve and stupid! And why is she even here?!

"I...came...l-l-like you w-w-wanted," she stammers. Again, I'm stunned as I don't remember telling her any such thing. I was just making stuff up when I was doing my thing. Did I say anything about coming here?

"I didn't tell anyone!" She says suddenly. "So please don't hurt my family," she pleads harshly, sending me over the edge with anger. "Like I wanted?!" I say in that crazy man's growl. "No! Like I want is free of sin and trouble and sweet tarts! Remove all, everything, all stitching known to man...and when you return, knock the sign of metal, 3, 4, 2!" I rant, trying my hardest to seem as crazy and over the top as possible. I even make my voice crack several times on purpose. For effect I slam the door hard, wanting to make her run off crying.

I stand there, staring at the wall in disbelief. How could anyone believe me to be that evil? It's maddening to think that. There's no proof or anything. How could someone be that stupid and fearful? Then I get a bit of a bad feeling as I go back to rewiring. Why did I do it? She's going to go to a principal. I know she is. Well, I can explain everything to them. I'm sure I'll get in trouble, but not fired. I mean, the girl was being really stupid...and mean.

Then I hear knocking again. Three times. Pause. Four times. Then two times. Oh my god. It's her. She came back! And she did the stupid knock.

I open the door, not sure of what I'm about to find. My mouth drops open at what I see. It's the same girl...without any clothing. She stands there, trembling, all of her skin illuminated by the overhead lights. One of her arms is cross over her chest, holding both bare breasts and hiding her nipples. Her other hand cups her womanhood and it too trembles.

I stare at her not sure what to do or think. There's a beautiful naked teen black girl in front of me...in the hallway of this school. I hadn't noticed before but she has a very nice body under the clothes she had on. At least C cup breasts. A bit thick, but but not overweight.

Then I notice that I don't see her clothing anywhere. They are not on the ground or piled in a corner. That means she changed probably in a bathroom and walked back here. This sends flames of red all over me. She's that scared of me...that she purposely walked all this way naked...fearing what I would do to her...or her family. That I am that evil.

Something snaps inside me. It breaks. I feel it break. Like a rope holding a too heavy load. I have no idea what happened to me, but I can't take it any longer. I can't. She wants to be scared? She wants the crazy mad man? Fine. She has it.

----

I try so hard to stop my whimpering as I stand there, the A/C touching all of my bare skin. Never would I believe my life could get so horrible. I'm NAKED! NAKED! NAKED in school! And my clothes are in the bathroom, hidden behind a toilet. I hope they stay there. I hope he just wants to see me scared and then tells me to get out of his face. Oh please. Please. Please.

My hands still clutch myself as I try hard to hide as much of me as possible. Thank goodness there's not a class or people in this hallway, otherwise they see my bare ass clear as day. I'll never forget the feeling of removing my clothes...in school. Getting naked in that stall.

What confuses me is he acts as if he wasn't expecting me. He was, right? He told me to do this, didn't he? Maybe I'm seeing this wrong. Did I make something up that wasn't there? I begin to think I did but then see his face go very dark. VERY DARK. For a moment I fear he's about to pull a knife and kill me right here...but all he does is stare.

What's more is the feeling inside of me. This is horrible, simply horrible, but there's a feeling in my stomach I've never felt. It burns red and feels...well...good. It makes me feel like I'm flying. Then it occurs to me...some part of me, some dark horrible part, likes this. Likes being naked in this place, out of control.

"Why the fuck you holding yourself you dumb bitch?" He says straight forward and upset, his voice unlike it was before. Now it sounds almost like a normal human being. "Get those hands up. No. In fact, put 'em on your head. And if you dare to remove 'em, I'll make you regret it," he orders looking like he wants me to disobey. "Make sure you look me in the eye when you do it," he demands.

Humiliated like never before, I loosen my hands from my body. My eyes look into his and all I want to do is look away, but I don't. My hands release my breasts, both of them, which jiggle as I tremble so much. And I uncup my womanhood, exposing my sweet flower to him. My hands move upward, in the most humiliating act I've ever done. I feel so out of control and helpless doing this. But that red heat inside me flares as I show him my most private of places. Both hands are on my head now, my entire body exposed, open and on view for his crazy eyes to feast on. "Don't kill me, please," I say softly.

"If you good, I won't. Nor I go after anyone else," he says with an evil smirk as he looks down at my naked form. We both stand there, with him examining my naked body as I'm in this hallway. He sees everything. My breasts, my stomach, even my womanhood which I tend to every Sunday as I think hair is gross. Then I wonder what if a teacher turns the corner and sees? Do I want that? No! He'll blame me! And then my family and I pay the price.

"Get in here you cowardly bitch," he growls stepping to the side and motioning. This time I hear real anger in his voice, as if he hates me. No one has ever talked to me like that before. It scares me more than ever. Gulping, I walk forward quickly, keeping my hands on my head. As I walk, I feel my breasts jiggle and bounce about with each step, which is something I've never really felt before. Or should I say 'noticed' before.

She's in my office naked! I don't believe this! My heart rate is so fast I fear I might have a heart attack, especially as fast as it's beating. It's time. Time to teach this dumb bitch a lesson for being so stupid...so cowardly...so naïve. Teach her to be scared of me. I'll mess her up. I'll mess her up bad. Teach her never to do it again.

"I...I hate dirt," I say spotting one of my many cleaner bottles and getting a bad idea. "Hate it bad," I add grabbing it. All she does is stand in the middle of the room, hands on her head, trembling as if in the middle of a snow storm. "You got dirt on you, don't ya?" I ask and then without waiting for an answer, I squirt her tits with the cleaner. A fine spray fans out, spraying all over them with a faint layer of the cleaner inside. And still...she doesn't move.

I spray her tits again. And again. Nothing. She doesn't move or say anything. The only thing she does is a shudder and then nothing else. She takes it. Take me spraying her with who knows what.

Feeling so bold and so calm, I begin to spray down every inch of her. Shoulders, neck, armpits, side of her tits, under her tits, stomach, thighs, legs. I have no idea if this stings her or not, but she doesn't say anything, not even when I spray down her back and ass. She just stays there, shaking and dipping, body glistening.

Doing this is the worst possible thing I could have done and the best at the same time. Seeing her, wet all over just makes me want to fuck her harder than anyone I've even done. And right now I think I could spilt metal with my hard on. But I can't. can I?

"Spread your legs," I order, seeing the real test of my control. If she does it, then I know I can do whatever I want. If she fights or tries to run, then...well...I'll handle that if I need to. I see a tear fall from her eye as she adjusts herself and parts her legs, exposing her womanhood to me. And I can't help but smile. Even knowing what I'm going to do...she did it. I have complete control.

Moving very slowly so it's torture to her, I position the bottle right in front of her pussy. Then...I spray. I spray her beautiful pussy with the cleaner several times, loving the way she squirms and groans as I do it. It's so lovely and great I can't help but laugh. It's all too easy.

"Spread your lips open," I say, wanting the humiliation to go deep. Her shaking hands come down, shaking so bad you might think she has a health condition. And like the scared cowardly girl she is, she parts her pussy lips. Laughing at her, I spray right on her clit, knowing it must smart. And to my delight, she lets out a yelp and shudders.

Still laughing I turn and put the bottle down. I pick up a random rag I have lying about and go back to her. Already she has both hands on top of her head. God. How pathetic. She's so scared of me she is going to keep her hands on her head no matter what I do to her.

Knowing I can do anything, I use the dirty rag on her face, roughly. Then I dry/wipe down every part of her, but not gently. I wipe her like she's a school table, wanting to dry all areas and not caring about the scraps or bruises. That her body isn't a beautiful gentle thing, but a thing that no one cares about.

"Time for education," I growl, trying so hard to remember the crazy talk I told you in the hallway.

---

My mind feels oddly blank as I stand here, letting him put window cleaner or whatever it is all over me. I feel the texture run down my body, feeling the sting of it but not daring to move. I see more than a dozen tools he has in here that could kill me if he wanted. That makes me keep very still.

So I stay here...even opening my vagina for him. He's the first man to see it. Sure, I've had sex before, but with a boy. Never thought the first man to see it would be anything like him. Not a murdering crazy janitor.

Then the worst possible thing ever to happen occurs. I cum. Feeling him spray my flower with the cleaner sends waves of pleasure all over me. I even feel my face burn red. Standing there, dripping, holding my own lips open, I cum fast and hard, like I've never done before. He didn't even penetrate me, and I came. The knowledge of this almost makes me fall over. What type of weirdo am I? I mean, a part of me is enjoying this!

"Face the wall," he suddely orders, pointing to a space of the brick wall that isn't covered with a shelf. I move one foot and almost fall. My body feels weak and tingly, as if it's asleep or something. Worse, my stomach still feels so damn warm, really warm deep inside. The type of warm that makes my entire body feel good.

Slowly, hands on my head, I walk to the wall, feeling my breasts bounce once again. I step right in front of the wall, my face near inches from it. Fear builds as I recall a dozen books when someone was made to face the wall because they are about to be shot.