Untainted

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Every day was the same; wake up, eat breakfast, bus to work or drive on the odd day I ran late, organize the work week, fix someone else's mess, attend the board meetings, go home, grade papers, eat sleep and then repeat. I had more control over my life than most people twice my age did, but the blur of daily routines made me feel powerless. It was a never ending conundrum that I'm certain everyone faced, but for some reason, I needed more. More control, more power, more dominance; more.

By the time I left the bar, it was dark and quiet. The sound of insects chittering could be heard from a block away, a random persons footsteps echoing from a few alleyways down. I could've driven to the bar if I wanted, but the odd comfort of a public bus always seemed more appealing. Stepping onto the decaying tin can, the driver grunted as I flashed my bus pass to him, not waiting to drive off before I was seated. Muttering to myself, I sway my ass to the back as I paid no attention to the moth throwing itself into the shuttle light, or the crumpled up garbage in the corner; only the silence filling the shuttle and the lack of people filling its seats.

The only thing I could do was recite how my day went. The endless blur of Skype meetings to prepare for the new school year, the frustrating emails from my boss asking how many more class slots I had, or the occasional begging to lower my grading standards to avoid as many dropouts. Those always made me scoff. There was no point in joining an advanced course if you couldn't handle the workload and heavy grading standards, but as annoying as it was to have students beg me to raise their marks or give them extensions, it was amusing to watch so many cocky brats lose their ego only a few weeks into the semester. Watching their ego and pride slowly shatter filled me with indescribable pleasure.

I was familiar with this bus route. How long it would take to get from point A to point B, who typically got on and at what stop, what days they used the route and even what drivers were working at what times. It was routine and I didn't like when it was disrupted, but as the bus rolled into a stop, my eyes clung to a young man cloaked in black. His hair was dyed purple and white and styled into an overgrown mullet, his hair contrasting his clothes in every way.

I couldn't tell much from how far away he was, but as his black boots seamed with yellow thread echoed quiet stomps onto the shuttle and he flashed his ticket to the driver, I watched him with intent. His black ripped jeans littered with chains and patches matched perfectly with his oversized, slightly torn and burnt hoodie. Rings littered his hands while chains drowned his wrists and neck. Etched onto his face was a slight glare and a small pout. I guess he didn't have a very good day either. But behind his gothic and otherwise 'scary' appearance, his eyes held innocence. Pure, untainted innocence that bit back tears; and I knew that I needed him, or better yet, I needed to corrupt him. I wanted to be the reason that he bit back tears, I wanted to be the reason that those innocent eyes flashed with need. I didn't just want him, I needed him and I had every intention of finding a way of making him mine.

Eventually, my stop came and I was forced to leave my new obsession, but as I passed him, hope burned inside my stomach. Hanging from his bag, in a laminated and decorated pouch was a student ID for the university I taught at. With the school year starting in only a few days, I knew I'd see him every day, even if just for a few moments in the halls. Trudging off the bus and towards the historic building I called home, I fumbled with my keys as I burned his face into my head. I jam my key into the door and rattle it until the door swings open. I slam it behind me and make a bee-line straight to my computer to try and find him.

Students were required to go in this week to get their ID's to gain access to the university once school started. This meant that he would inevitably be in the system, it was just a matter of scanning through at least four years of students to find him. I hadn't seen him on campus before, so that meant one of two things; he had a massive change in personality and identity over summer, or, he was a first year student.

After hours of scrolling, I had finally found him. Lucien Crow. He was a second year student, but he transferred late into the second semester last year due to an expulsion and current charges. Reading further into it, the letter that his former principal sent to get him enrolled described him as a quiet student with stellar marks, but a silent, yet explosive anger. I couldn't find much about why he was expelled or what his charges were for, but his marks were true to his former deans statement. His marks never dropped below a 90 until closer to the time he got expelled. Something must have truly been weighing down on him to effect his marks the way that they did.

When a yawn tears me from my screen, I decide it's time to head to bed. I'd see him soon, there wasn't much reason to obsess over his history. Shutting down my laptop, I drag myself to bed, not bothering to undress. The morning had come earlier than I had hoped and the throbbing trying to escape my skull seemed to agree. Rolling over with a groan, I grab my phone off the nightstand and pull myself out of bed. Heading straight for the shower, I ignore the notifications coming from my phone. They could wait until I was fully awake.

Finally cleaned, groomed and dressed, I make my way to the kitchen and unlock my phone. Grateful that I had pre-set the coffee machine last night before the bar, I poured myself a cup as I checked my messages. Sighing as the app loads, I take a sip and check my boss' messages first. Over the years I taught at the university, we developed a close friendship that only seemed to strengthen when we found ourselves running into each other at a kink bar. It was an interesting and awkward dynamic, but the more we both frequented there and spoke outside of work, he became the closest bond that I had solidified in years.

Boss Bitch: You have an interesting set up of students this year, some are delinquents
Boss Bitch: Who knows, maybe one will need a good spanking ;)

Me: That's illegal.

Boss Bitch: Who'd fire you?

Me: I'm not interested in students, nevertheless whiny ones who will drop out within a few weeks because 'Mr. Matthews is mean and wont raise my mark :(('

Boss Bitch: LOL! I wouldn't be too sure, one is a second year who insisted that they'd be able to handle your classes.

Sighing at his antics, I take another sip of coffee and make my way to my office to open my laptop. I still had to finish sorting through the curriculum and modify it to my liking before Monday. I had a day left.

Me: ?? Classes?? Plural??
Me: Half the students in their third year argue the same thing to Mary and Stephen and STILL drop out.
Me: Why on earth would you actually agree to let a second year into my classes anyways.. I swear to god, Anthony Whitlock, you're gonna become the reason I start drinking on the job..

Boss Bitch: Take a look at his academics and see for yourself.
Boss Bitch: [Lucien Crow]

Glancing at the student file, I choke on my coffee, looking again when I could breathe. There was no fucking way I was reading this right. Clicking on the file, my eyes hadn't deceived me. Enlarged on my screen was the face from last night. Scrolling down, my attention peaks. He was in every advanced course that he could get his hands on, which included two of mine this semester. The universe worked in mysterious ways, but I refused to complain.