Falling From Grace (Patreon)

Mikha groans, patting the pockets of their slacks in vain. Rain patters on the top of their car as they search. The teacher parking lot is nearly empty. In typical Friday afternoon fashion, Hometown Secondary School is mostly empty already. Not to mention the fact that EVERYONE’S looking forward to the long weekend, which likely exacerbated the nearly deserted status of the school. They brush their short dark hair out of their face. Then they try to find their cell phone anywhere on their person yet again. Mikha sighs, then turns around to do the walk of shame back to the school. Their steps crunch as they trek over cracked and damp asphalt.


Hometown High is the only high school for miles and miles. All sorts of kids from all sorts of catchments end up here. As such, it's been repeatedly expanded over the years as the population ballooned. What was once a charming old school house is now a horrifying amalgamation of decades worth of architectural styles all melded together into the weirdest building conceivable by minds both human and monster. 


Mikha steps through the cherry wood doors of the main entrance, situated smack dab in the middle of the old school. It's an old brick building with a still functioning clock ticking away just under the arch in its roof. They head for their classroom, on the second floor of the wing built back in the '80s. The floor is a patchwork of duct tape and different patterns of linoleum tile.


It's kind of a shit hole to be honest, but it's their shithole. It's got a rustic charm that Mikha can't deny.


They wave at the janitor as they pass the old man, who's currently just about to start cleaning the floors. Mikha manages to fish their keys out of their pocket as they approach the door to their classroom. 


But something catches their attention. A little noise, almost too quiet to be real. Mikha figures that they imagined it, that they're just tired after a long day. At least until they hear it again.


“Mmhh!” The muffled sound drifts into their ears again. The hairs on their arm and  neck stand on end, it sounds like someone’s in pain. They tilt their head from side to side, looking this way and that to try and locate the source.


“What the hell?” They murmur softly when they find themselves standing in front of their own classroom door. Goofy little stickers surround the frosted window in its center. Their students love slapping them on there, and Mikha loves it too. One in particular always stands out to them, it's a cute cat person of the indeterminate gender throwing up a peace sign. The sticker is so vibrant and so colorful, it always draws their attention when they open or close the door. Speaking of… They move to slide the key into the lock, only to find the handle turns without it. Did I forget to lock the door? 


“Ahh!” Someone yelps from inside. Adrenaline floods their body, and they surge into the room to help. Whatever they were expecting, it absolutely was not a young reindeer girl hiking up her skirt, legs swung on either side of a desk corner, grinding her hips with a shocking vigor. 


The girl’s long blonde hair is tied up In a high ponytail, her ears are flapping. Her face is beet red, visible even through her fur. Her little black skirt is hiked up above her surprisingly round hips. Her green and red plaid sweater vest is slightly askew, and the top button of her dress shirt is undone. Her eyes are clamped shut, and she’s got something pressed into her face. A crumpled up something. 


The familiar classroom is nearly completely dark, save for the ambient late afternoon light spilling in through the windows. She isn’t grinding on a student’s desk in the middle of the classroom. No of course not, instead she’s at THEIR desk, masturbating furiously, whimpering so sweetly. 


Mikha stands there, frozen in place as shock and dread leaps through their veins. A student is touching herself, using their desk to pleasure themselves. She’s facing away from them. Mikha opens their mouth, only to croak out a whole string of exactly nothing, barely able to make a sound at all. Like all the air in their lungs is dead and useless. 


“MMnnnn~” Noelle moans, seemingly unaware of their presence. Mikha shuts the door as silently as they can, before creeping closer. What is that thing Noelle has bunched up in her hands, why is she pressing it into her face? 


More importantly, what the fuck is going on here? Did they fall on the way back to the classroom, are they brain damaged? Is this some kind of coma induced hallucination? 


“Mx.  Mikha~” They exhale slowly as the teen moans their name, and they quickly move their purse so it rests in front of them. Noelle's moaning their name? She’s moaning their name. She's… 


Oh no. No no. 


Their eyes fall on the ruddy maroon sweater Noelle is desperately huffing, and blood rushes to their own cheeks. They briefly shake themselves before mentally scolding themselves. Tell her to stop. Their mind barks at them, This is SO inappropriate, this is UNIMAGINABLY wrong! Yet, for all their brain’s efforts, they just stand there, watching. 


Every time Noelle  swings her hips forward, she spreads more glistening slick all over the desk corner. Every heated breath, every obvious attempt by the girl to hide how much she’s enjoying this only makes Mikha feel hotter. They watch her, now noting the subtle curves of her body, noting the way her midsection narrows so slightly before widening out to a still small yet round ass. They look at her hair, golden and beautiful as it sways  from her efforts.


“Unnnh! Mx. Mikha, you’re so big~” Noelle mumbles, too lost in her fantasy to even notice Mikha step closer. They’re torn, a confusing rush smashes into them while the rising tide inside rages and churns on itself. Stop her! Don’t. This isn’t right. Who cares? You’re better than this! Am I? 


They slide a hand down their small tits, across their toned belly, and right under their waistband. The two voices, two sides of them battle it out. Mikha wasn't even aware that this was an issue before right now. But now that they know that Noelle is lusting after them, imagining… no, fantasizing about having sex with them. Everything about the girl seems to have shifted. 


It's like they see her in a new light, no longer innocent and precious. They graze their hard on with their fingers, and shiver. It doesn't matter if they want to or not, their hands are moving on their own. They start to rub themselves, slowly working their shaft, it hardens even more from their own feather-lite touch than from the lewd and dark display in front of them.


“Fuck~” They whisper out, and their heart leaps when the girl jerks suddenly. Noelle whirls around, and her eyes go wide.


“Mx.  Mikha?!” She shouts. Mikha yanks their hand out of their pants, grateful that their raging boner is hidden by their purse. Before they can think of what to say, Noelle  lifts off the desk, straightens her skirt, and bolts for the door.


“Wait!” Mikha grunts, reaching out as panic seized them. They catch the girl by her shoulders and swing her back in front of them. Noelle’s eyes are wide, she’s tensed up, gripping at their dress shirt. 


They don’t think, they pull her in close, making sure she doesn’t run and get caught by the janitor. It’s just to keep Noelle safe. 


“Wait a minute kid.” They whisper. Noelle struggles slightly, and they grip her harder, squeezing her slight shoulders. She gasps. Neither of them speak for a moment, the orange light outside begins to fade as the sun falls over the horizon. Just then, Noelle's ears twitch, and a moment later Mikha can hear it too. The floor cleaning thing whirring outside. 


Noelle squirms in their arms, but doesn't try to run anymore. Instead, the girl pushes her face directly into their chest. Mikha thinks nothing of it at first, so focused on escaping detection that they don't register Noelle at all. Mercifully, or perhaps unfortunately, the janitor doesn’t come in, and soon enough the sound fades away to nothing. Silence hedges in around them, and Mikha sighs, their shoulders falling as the air leaves their chest. 


“That was close.”


“Mmmm…” Noelle hums, which isn't much of a reply really. A bead of sweat drips down Mikha’s face and they swallow, suddenly wishing they brought their water bottle in. 


They wrap their arms around the slight girl, marveling at just how small she is. They grip her hard once more, their heart leaping at her cute little squeak. Noelle huffs and puffs, and Mikha realizes with a thrill that the girl is smelling them. A tingling heat spreads through their body, and they let their hands slide down her back. 


“Hahh…” Noelle moans, and Mikha cradles her ass. They brush their purse out of the way, and yank the girl closer. Noelle grips at their back, but doesn’t say a word. She doesn't pull away, she doesn't push them, she doesn’t say no. Their heart is hammering in their chest, and they sigh shakily as Noelle shifts…


… and starts grinding on their leg. Mikha lets out a dangerous sigh, and grabs her ass more firmly. A loud bang rings through the hall outside, and distant voices murmur. Just like that, it's broken. Whatever it was.


“I’m sorry.” Noelle l says. Then she’s slipping out of their arms, dashing to the door before slamming it behind her. Mikha listens as the girl's  footsteps fade into  the distance, they stand there while their heart slowly settles down. They sit down in their chair, holding their head in their hands. Their hardon softens. Their head is racing. 


What the fuck was that? What the fuck is wrong with me? They grip their arms, tears sting at their eyes, and they smudge their makeup wiping them away. They were so close to doing something they'd regret. How did it get so far? Would they have actually done anything? Mikha shivers, and downs what’s left of their water. 


Did Noelle want them? A stupid question really, they already know the answer to that one. The girl was masturbating on their desk while practically stuffing their sweater into her nose. Not to mention she moaned their name. Oh god, Mikha feels their stomach turn, rolling over like a wild beast waking up after a long winter asleep. They were totally into it, they wanted it. So did Noelle, but that doesn't make it okay. That doesn't make any of it okay. They breathe in deeply, letting the air fill their lungs until it stings before exhaling it all out at once. They repeat the motion, trying to drive the memory of Noelle grinding on their desk out of their mind. Their stomach drops as a truly chilling thought crosses their mind.


What if she calls the cops?!


Mikha stands up so quickly their chair topples over with a crash. They made a mistake, a big fucking mistake. One that they absolutely cannot make again no matter what. Mikha stares at the still wet spot on the corner of their desk, staring at the glistening nectar the girl left behind. They’re practically drooling, swallowing down spit at a truly unhinged rate. Mikha stares, and lets themselves wonder for just a minute… what does she taste like? 


Mikha slams their hands against the sturdy wood, then runs right past that damned corner. They run out of the classroom, down the hall, and into the bathroom. In the blink of an eye they're back with a wet paper towel. They wipe the offending spot with a zealous energy. Wipe it away. Forget it happened. Never ever mention it again. What desk? Who’s Noelle? Never heard of her.


Their hand slows to a crawl, absently wiping up the young teen’s slick. Then, then stop. Mikha stiffly crosses the classroom, throws the paper wad into the trash, then returns to their desk to grab their coat.


You’re a monster.


They leave the classroom, waving at the janitor as he finishes cleaning the floors. Mikha walks across the now dark parking lot, their dress shoes crunch against the crumbling asphalt. They grab their keys out of their purse, climb into their banged up old car. The engine rattles to life, and they pull out of their parking stall. It's only after they pull onto the highway that it hits them, only now the realization is almost crushing.


They forgot their phone.