The Conservative Teacher - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Here's the second instalment in the Conservative Teacher series where Duncan takes his revenge on Matt during the first rugby match of the year.

I've loved writing this and it ended up much longer than intended, but I hope you guys enjoy it. Give it a like if you do and let me know in the comments if you want to see a Chapter 3.

Duncan

The summer break was over, and the Autumn Term had begun.

Duncan Klein had spent most of the summer working on a novel in a beautiful villa in the south of France. He’d worked out, swam, eaten more cheese than was healthy and drunk far too much red wine; it had been perfect.

Except, of course, for the burning fury that had consumed him since the last assembly of the Summer Term when Matt Owen had orchestrated his utter humiliation in front of the whole school. The thought of having his upper body on show through his sweaty white shirt, not to mention his muscular legs and bubble butt being shown off in his silk boxer shorts was mortifying. Just thinking of it made his cheeks heat and he had felt something close to dread at the thought of seeing the faculty and students again.

But Duncan was nothing if not positive and he made his way to the school’s welcome assembly with a smile on his face, wearing one of his signature baggy suits.

“Good morning to you, Mr Klein.”

Duncan turned to find Sally Westerberg, one of the teachers in his department, with a huge grin on her face. She usually wore a blouse and cardigan combo with a long skirt, but today her hair was bigger, and she was wearing make-up with a figure-hugging top and a much snugger skirt.

“Hello Sally, did you have a good summer?”

Sally placed her hand on Duncan’s bicep. ‘You bet I did, but it’s so nice to be back. I find the first day of term very . . . stimulating; don’t you?”

Duncan stepped out of reach and blushed. “I guess so. Better dash.”

Clearly Sally must have had some sort of awakening over the summer. She was acting incredibly odd in Duncan’s opinion.

But Sally wasn’t the only one.

On his way to assembly, Duncan had multiple strange encounters with members of the faculty, not to mention the stares and whispers of many students.

As much as he wanted to pretend it was something in the water, Duncan couldn’t deny that this was likely to do with his forced exposure at the end of last term. It only made his rage towards Matt Owen even stronger, and he did his utmost to remain calm as he took his seat with the other faculty.

As Duncan scribbled some thoughts for his first lesson in his notebook, he was interrupted when someone took the empty seat next to him.

“Hi Duncan.”

Duncan forced a smile to his face. “Hello Matt, good summer?”

His tone was icy, but Duncan’s smile took the sting out of his tone.

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m . . . sorry . . . for what happened at the last assembly. It was childish and stupid, and I shouldn’t have done that. I just wanted to say that, and I hope there’re no hard feelings or anything.”

Duncan took a breath before he turned to face Matt. “Of course not. It was just a silly prank and the Head covered for us, so no harm done.”

Matt looked visibly stunned. “Oh, so you’re not mad or anything?”

“Absolutely not. What was it you called me? Saint Duncan, right?”

Matt gulped. ‘Yeah, that was it.”

“Saints forgive. All good.”

Duncan had never been a good liar, but the rage seemed to fuel his ability and he was surprised at how easily he’d lied to Matt.

As the Headteacher took to the podium and started his welcome address, Duncan managed to relax a little. He didn’t have to speak at this assembly and after the reception he’d received so far, he was adamant that his revenge plot was going ahead.

There was no way that Matt Owen was going to humiliate him like that and get away with it.

Matt

Throughout the welcome assembly, Matt barely focused on what the Head talked about. He’d spent most of the summer feeling guilty over the look of shock and hurt on Saint Duncan’s face in that locker room and had desperately come up with a lengthy apology to try and return things to the status quo. But the one response he hadn’t expected; Duncan saying it was fine!

Sure, he’d sounded a little cold, but that was nothing compared to the level of hate Matt had expected from him.

Granted, he still resented perfect Duncan and his inability to do anything wrong, but that seemed less important than the way he’d looked so upset when Matt had yelled at him. A look that Matt just couldn’t seem to escape from.

“Here’s to a wonderful term,” the Head said in closing as the students and faculty politely applauded, before starting to file out of the school hall.

Duncan quickly stood and stepped past Matt to head towards his first lesson. Matt stood and followed, feeling the need to say something, anything, to try and ensure that things were genuinely okay, but he didn’t know how to say it.

To make matters worse, as Matt walked behind Duncan, he found himself staring intently at the movement of Duncan’s butt under his baggy navy suit trousers. After seeing him in those silk boxer shorts at the assembly, Matt found himself unable to stop picturing what he knew the loose material was hiding.

Matt shook his head and took a left down the corridor towards his office, letting Duncan continue forward to the English department.

If Duncan said it was fine, then Matt had to respect that and let it go. Yes, he’d spent most of the summer thinking about the whole event, but he needed to get a grip. It was done. They could just return to their normal existence where they barely even acknowledged each other. Duncan would get everything he wanted, and Matt would think he was a dick!

Just as it should be!

Duncan

During the first two weeks of term, Duncan did his utmost to avoid Matt whenever possible. If he saw Matt enter the staff room, he’d leave it. If Matt walked towards him in the corridors, Duncan would become engrossed in his phone or need to take a different route.

Duncan knew his behaviour was somewhat childish and petty, but until he’d exacted his revenge, he couldn’t bear to see Matt’s smug, handsome face.

Handsome? Duncan wondered. Where had that come from?

Well, yes, Matt was handsome! He was rugged and muscular and confident – of course he was handsome!

Duncan shook his head and slipped the small bottle into his pocket before leaving his office and walking briskly down the stairs towards the sports wing.

It was early on Saturday morning and the school rugby team were scheduled to play their first match of the year. Even though it meant standing on a cold, muddy rugby pitch for a couple of hours, Duncan wasn’t planning on missing a second of it. As much as he didn’t usually attend school matches, he decided that he needed to be more supportive . . .

The sports wing was empty when he arrived, and Duncan was relieved to see that Matt’s office was empty and unlocked.

Since school had resumed, Duncan had gone out of his way to befriend his senior students who were on the rugby team. What were their pre-game rituals? Did Mr Owen join in? Did they have any game traditions?

Duncan wanted to know everything, and he’d learned exactly what he needed:

1 - Matt changed in his office for every game, ever since the first time he’d done that, and they’d won by 3 tries.

2 - Matt laid out his outfit the night before to ensure he didn’t forget it after apparently turning up to one match hungover and having to wear a student’s spare kit.

3 - When the team left the changing rooms, Matt locked them and his office, and the keys were kept in the pocket of his jacket, which was handed to his friend, none other than Sally Westerberg, who diligently looked after it for him by wearing it the entire game to give herself an extra layer of clothing.

When Duncan pushed open the door of Matt’s office, he was pleased to see that Matt had his outfit laid out on one of the chairs, a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a rugby shirt with white sport socks. As Duncan pulled the small bottle from his pocket, he did a quick check of the corridor before going to work. He turned Matt’s clothes inside out and was surprised to find a slightly dulled white jockstrap. It wasn’t a standard sport one, but a branded one with much thinner straps.

Chuckling to himself, Duncan sprinkled powder on the jockstrap first before adding powder to the rest of the clothes.

Once he’d finished his task, Duncan carefully put the outfit back exactly as he’d found it on the chair, praying that Matt wouldn’t notice that the jockstrap wasn’t in the same position as it might have been before.

After a quick check of the time, Duncan closed the office door and headed back down the hallway, stopping off in one of the bathrooms to thoroughly wash his hands.

There was no way he wanted to risk that anything he’d just sprinkled would stay on his skin.

Matt

The first rugby match of the season was always a happy occasion; win or lose. The team had loads of energy after a summer break and everyone was eager to get out and play a match where the weather wasn’t too hideous.

Sticking to his match ritual, Matt arrived early to his office and changed into his lucky jock and his outfit for the game before heading into the locker room and giving the team a first game of the season pep talk.

“Just remember, boys; today is about fun, not about winning. Just enjoy yourselves.”

As Matt followed the team out to the rugby pitch, he felt oddly hot. His skin was tingling with heat. He scratched at his chest. Maybe it was just wearing his kit for the first time in a few months, and it was a little itchy?

“Hey Sally,” Matt said with a grin as he took off his jacket and handed it over to her. “Ready for another rugby season?”

Sally shrugged on the jacket over her own. “Always! I have to do my part to support the boys.”

Matt stood and chatted with Sally until the teams had finished stretching and the referee called them over.

Matt absentmindedly scratched his butt cheek before jogging across the field. Why did he feel so hot?

“Are you alright, Matt?” the opposing team’s coach, Patrick Mutz asked as they shook hands.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit warm. How’s things?”

Duncan

Once Duncan heard the whistle blow, he headed over to the pitch and sidled up to Sally Westerberg, who’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as soon as she saw him.

“Mr Klein, we don’t usually see you at a rugby match,” she said with a huge grin.

“I thought I’d do more to support some of the school teams this year,’ Duncan said with a shrug.

Sally placed her hand on his bicep again. “You’re so good. You really are.”

Duncan used this opportunity to slip his hand into the pocket of Matt’s jacket that she was wearing. Relieved he guessed the right pocket; he pulled out the keys and put them in his own pocket.

“I do what I can. After all, you set the example for the rest of us to follow.”

‘Oh, Mr Klein. Honestly, you’ll make me blush,” she giggled.

Duncan smiled and turned his eyes to the pitch, immediately noticing Matt scratching his thigh and then his pec.

It looks like everything has worked out perfectly, Duncan thought to himself.

As the first half progressed, Duncan was hypnotised as he watched Matt shouting various instructions at the team as he scratched himself at varying intervals. First it was a subtle, speedy scratch – on the arm, the thigh, the chest, the stomach. Then things progressed, on more than one occasion, Matt scratched the bulge in his tracksuit bottoms or discreetly tried to scratch his butt.

When there was 5 minutes to go to half-time, Matt’s face was flushed, and he couldn’t stop scratching himself. It was at that moment that he looked over and locked eyes with Duncan. It was at that precise second when their eyes connected that Duncan realised that his cock was throbbing inside his briefs. He was hard as a rock, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d been like that.

Thank God for tight briefs, he thought with a blush.

Not wanting to think about why that had happened, Duncan politely told Sally that he had some work to take care of.

Just as the whistle blew, Duncan half walked/half jogged back into the building. He wasn’t sure he could go through with the rest of his plan. When Matt looked at him, he’d known that Duncan had done something. Duncan was sure of it.

The door slammed open behind him, and Duncan spun around to see Matt running down the corridor. Before he could even move, Matt had Duncan by the shoulders and pinned him against the wall.

‘What the fuck have you done to me? Don’t pretend this wasn’t you because you’ve got guilty written all over your face.”

Duncan gulped, hyperaware that his cock was once again getting hard. “Matt, I haven’t . . .”

Matt pushed him harder against the wall, his grip tight. “Don’t fucking lie to me. I know this was you. What is it? It’s driving me insane.”

Matt released Duncan and lifted his shirt to start scratching his furry chest.

Duncan froze at the sight of Matt’s muscular pecs as he scratched at them before moving down to his stomach.

“Why do I itch so badly? What have you done?”

Despite his best efforts, Duncan was unable to speak. He had an angry speech ready and a plan that hadn’t finished yet. This wasn’t how Duncan had intended for this to play out.

Not to mention the fact that Matt’s sudden close proximity was distracting him even further. The smell of his aftershave, the stubble on his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the anger in his eyes, the firm grip on his shoulders.

“Say something, Saint Duncan, before I tear my fucking skin off.”

“I . . . I . . . put . . .”

Duncan couldn’t get his words out and was feeling more and more frustrated with himself. This was the man that had humiliated him in front of the whole school. He deserved this!

“I put itching powder on your clothes and you . . . you completely deserve it.”

Matt’s mouth fell open in shock and he released Duncan’s shoulders. “Itching powder? What are you? Twelve? How do I deserve this?”

‘You humiliated me in front of the whole school,’ Duncan screamed at him. “Everyone saw me in my boxers. Everyone knows what my body looks like.”

Matt was scratching his chest as his face morphed into one of absolute fury. “Yeah, I did. So what? Now everyone has seen how fucking perfect your perfect fucking body is! Not that anyone was surprised. Perfect Saint Duncan has a perfect body! How does that translate to itching powder all over my clothes? Scratching my bollocks is hardly that embarrassing.”

Duncan was momentarily distracted by the mention of Matt’s balls, but equally, he couldn’t help but blush. “You think my body is perfect?”

“Shut up, Duncan,” Matt yelled as he resumed his grip on Duncan’s shoulders and slammed him against the wall again.

“Wait!” Duncan said with a sudden moment of clarity. “Is this whole hate campaign because you . . . do you like me?”

There was a momentary spark of panic in Matt’s eyes, but it was quickly extinguished by rage. “No fucking way!”

Duncan was now convinced that his revelation was absolutely true. “How did I not see it? It all makes sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. Shut up. That’s not . . .”

Completely surprising himself, Duncan leaned forward and pressed his lips to Matt’s. Matt fell silent before quickly kissing Duncan back with more passion than Duncan had ever experienced. Duncan’s lips felt bruised as Matt put his hand behind Duncan’s head to pull him closer. Their tongues played against one another before Matt suddenly yanked himself back.

‘What are you doing?” he yelled. “Do you think you can get away with kissing whoever you want?”

Duncan resisted rolling his eyes. “You kissed me back, Matt.”

Matt deflated slightly, but took another step away from him, before scratching his stomach. “How do I get the itching to stop?”

“The powder is on your clothes. The faster you get them off, the faster it’ll stop. And a . . .”

Matt had his top off before Duncan could finish his sentence. Matt kicked off his trainers and then yanked down his tracksuit bottoms, revealing his thick, muscled, furry thighs and an impressive bulge inside his jockstrap.

“I’m still itchy,” Matt said before yanking his jock to his knees and letting it fall to the ground.

Duncan’s mouth filled with saliva at the sight of Matt butt naked in front of him. His uncut cock swung between his legs, definitely chubbed up from their kiss.

“What are you looking at?” Matt asked with genuine confusion.

“You’re . . . ummm . . . wow!”

For a Head of English, Duncan was mortified by his complete lack of vocabulary.

“I mean . . . you’re . . .”

Becoming aware of the fact that he’d just stripped, Matt glanced down and quickly put his hands over his cock. Duncan couldn’t deny that he felt disappointed, but the sight of Matt trying to hide his shame like that was somehow just as arousing.

“Will . . . will a shower get me back to normal?” Matt asked, trying to focus his brain on something practical that didn’t involve the bulge he thought he could see in Duncan’s loose jeans.

“Ummm . . .”

“Woah! Guys, this way! Coach is naked!”

Matt’s face suddenly paled as the corridor was filled with the sound of cleats on concrete as the rugby team came running towards them, pointing, and laughing at Matt.

“Mr Owen, why are you naked?” one of the lads asked.

Matt froze with his hands clasped over his dick that seemed to be getting harder by the second. There was no way he needed his seniors seeing him with a hard on, especially not in front of Saint Duncan.

“It was an issue with ants,” Duncan said quickly. “Couldn’t be helped, but Mr Owen is just heading off for a shower now.”

Duncan and Matt met each other’s gaze and Matt felt his dick throb before he came to his senses and ran off down the corridor.

The sight of Matt’s furry bubble butt bouncing down the corridor was so overwhelming hot that Duncan felt his dick leaking precum inside his tight briefs.

“Mr Owen, you may want these,” Duncan said with a sudden thought as he tossed Matt the keys for his office, forcing him to release his now fully erect cock, which got a loud cheer from the team.

Not wanting the rugby team to notice the bulge in his jeans or the blush in his cheeks, Duncan clapped his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, boys, head back outside and Mr Owen will be with you shortly.”

Duncan watched the team head back down the corridor before pushing his hand inside his jeans and briefs and adjusting his dick. Sure enough, there was a glistening line of precum on his hand as he removed it.

Aware of how incredibly turned on he was, Duncan started gathering up Matt’s clothes. He paused when he picked up the warm jock. He had a sudden urge to bury his face in it. Pity it was covered in itching powder, but maybe he could sneak down to Matt’s office after a mid-week practice. He could already imagine the heady, musky scent from one of Matt’s sweaty jocks.

“What are you doing?” Duncan chastised himself as he headed down the corridor, and deciding not to anger Matt further, Duncan dropped the clothes at his office door and headed back to his cottage.

Despite his plan not working out as he originally intended, Duncan couldn’t argue with the results. Matt had been exposed and humiliated. Granted, it was more than he had been at the end of last term, but Matt was in sport; he was used to being naked.

As soon as he thought the word “naked”, he couldn’t stop picturing Matt Owen stood in the corridor without a stitch of clothing on him. Not to mention replaying the kiss.

By the time Duncan got to his cottage, his cock was still hard, still leaking and was begging for release. He was just about to drop his jeans and deal with it when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

This isn’t over, Saint Duncan! You’ve fucked with the wrong guy!

Duncan gulped! What the hell would Matt do to him next?