Quinn burst through the gymnasium doors, spotting a teacher in a tight skirt, her deep V-neck flaunting creamy cleavage. Long, slender legs stretched from the hem, and her right hand clutched a roster.
"Late, aren't you?" She turned to him, her delicate fingers wrapping around a black stick, maybe a pointer, stroking it in slow, deliberate circles from base to tip.
The motion, paired with her slightly parted, glossy lips, unsettled Quinn. It felt… off.
The other male freshmen stood in neat rows before her. Some looked pale, their legs trembling, faint darkened stains on their pants.
"S-Sorry, I fell asleep," Quinn stammered, snapping to attention with an apologetic look as her gaze fixed on him.
Luckily, she didn't seem to care. With a wave, she motioned him to join the line.
Only the front row had space, so Quinn reluctantly took the spot at the far edge, thankfully not directly facing her.
"You can call me Kitsune. I'm usually in charge of the infirmary, but today I'm running this fitness test. Do well. This counts toward your credits," she said, parting her legs slightly.
Some boys faltered, hands slipping into their pants under cover of the crowd.
Kitsune glanced at them as her lips curled into a subtle smirk.
For some reason, Quinn felt that the teacher was paying special attention to him, like a hunter eyeing only the biggest prey.
"Oh, and Quinn from Class Three, Year One; You were late, so that's one point off. Just so you know, ten points off, and I will report you to the dean's office."
The words "dean's office" made Quinn's knees buckle. He'd rather die than face Director Bennie again.
"Now, head to your assigned instructors based on earlier groups," Kitsune said curtly, wrapping up her speech.
Soon, the gym emptied, leaving Quinn alone.
His tardiness had cost him the group assignments, and now he stood, stranded, awaiting whatever came next.
Kitsune noticed him lingering and sauntered over. One hand gripped the black pointer, its tip tapping his chest, occasionally brushing his nipples through his clothes. The cold touch made him shiver, a jolt of electric tingles spreading from his chest.
Standing so close, her fragrance enveloped him. It was a fragrance that made his "down there" unnecessarily excited.
Thankfully, Quinn's prior "experiences" gave him some resilience. He kept his body in check, stifling any stirrings below.
An erection in front of Kitsune? That'd be a disaster.
"Oh dear, looks like it's just you left. What to do? There's no other instructor available but me." Kitsune pressed the black pointer against her own chin, tilting her head as if troubled.
Though Quinn had never met her before, he sensed she was trouble. With no other options, he steeled himself and said, "Please, Miss Kitsune, take charge of my fitness test. I'm counting on you."
His cheeks burned with embarrassment. He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Kitsune looked displeased but sighed reluctantly. "This isn't my usual job, but it seems there's no choice. Follow me, then."
She turned and led the way.
As she walked, her full, rounded hips swayed naturally. The tight skirt hugged her slender waist, accentuating every curve. Even from behind, Quinn could make out the swell of her chest, half-hidden yet impossibly alluring. He swallowed hard.
Realizing she'd gotten ahead, he jogged to catch up, following her to a quiet corner of the gym where they were alone.
"Let's start with your height," Kitsune said, tapping a nearby machine with her pointer.
Quinn didn't dare dawdle. He stepped onto the platform, hearing a soft whir as a panel lowered to his head.
"One meter eighty, one hundred thirty pounds. Not bad," Kitsune noted, scribbling in her roster with a pen that appeared from nowhere.
Quinn stood still, glancing around. Nothing stood out except a yoga mat nearby, its purpose unclear.
A bad feeling stirred in his gut.
"Alright, first up: push-ups," Kitsune said casually, gesturing to the mat.
Push-ups? Quinn relaxed. He'd trained hard before enrolling. Whether barbells, dumbbells; it was all second nature to him. Push-ups were nothing to write home about.
Confident, he moved to the mat, planting his hands and feet, ready to start. He glanced at Kitsune, signaling he was good to go.
"Do as many as you can in one minute. The more you manage, the higher your score," she explained.
So far, everything seemed normal.
Then, something soft and heavy pressed against his back, carrying a rich, intoxicating scent. A weight, maybe forty-five kilos, settled on him.
He belatedly realized that Kitsune was sitting on his back.
"Begin."
Her weight was already bad enough, but then, her fingertips grazed his neck, sliding upward, occasionally brushing his scalp. Each touch blanked his mind.
Despite his best efforts, his body betrayed him. His shaft stiffened, his steady arms and legs trembled, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
"What's wrong? Can't you manage even one? But your muscles look so impressive…."
Kitsune teased him, her voice dripping with allure. Her fingers trailed downward, tracing the ridges of his back.
It felt like she was using his spine as a chalkboard, scribbling invisible patterns. Quinn barely stifled a moan.
He only had one minute. The last thing he wanted was to finish with zero.
Gritting his teeth against the pressure of her hips, Quinn pushed through, his body rising and falling. To his surprise, he found a rhythm.
In under ten seconds, he'd done six or seven; one every second or so.
Each push-up pressed her curves more firmly against him. Worse, her fingers lingered at his neck, brushing it lightly, like a lover's playful tickle.
The itch nearly threw him off balance more than once. Only his raw strength kept him from collapsing.
Lost in the motion, he didn't track time, just kept moving. Up, down, up, down. Then, Kitsune leaned closer, whispering in his ear. Her hips weren't the only pressure now; her full breasts pressed against him, their stiff peaks grazing his back like teasing tongues.
His erection throbbed even harder.
"Time's up."
Quinn sagged with relief, expecting her to move. She didn't.
"Miss?" He turned his head, trying to ask what she was doing.
She seized the chance, shifting to his other ear. Her soft tongue flicked along his earlobe.
The sensation broke him. "N-No, Miss Kitsune, the minute's over," he groaned, unable to hold back.
Only then did her hips lift. His back relaxed, and he collapsed, gasping for air.
Kitsune acted as if nothing had happened. She jotted notes. "Hmm, fifty in a minute. That should put you near the top among this year's freshmen."
It should've thrilled him, but joy wouldn't come. His shaft remained rock-hard.
He stayed prone, too mortified to turn over. It'd be humiliating if she saw his current state.
"Next up, sit-ups. Three whole minutes this time, and we start now."
Sit-ups? That meant….
He couldn't bear to think it.
But this was the test. Defying her risked another point deduction, inching him closer to the dreaded ten, which would mean the dean's office.
Facing her with his erection on display was bad, but Director Bennie's "punishments" terrified him more.
After a moment's hesitation, Quinn slowly turned, lying on the mat with his knees bent, hoping the angle might conceal his arousal.