Perverted Daddy System

Chapter 120 - Meeting the teachers (part 2)

Miss Delaney's classroom is different from the others. Posters of Shakespeare plays on the walls — Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, A Midsummer Night's Dream. A reading corner with a worn armchair and a floor lamp. Stacks of books piled on every surface — dog-eared paperbacks, leather-bound classics, modern novels with cracked spines.

She's at her desk when I knock, grading essays, her brow furrowed. She looks up and smiles — a warm, open smile that transforms her whole face.

"Mr. Roberts?"

"Ben, please."

I step inside, letting my gaze sweep the room before settling on her face. She's younger than I thought — maybe twenty-four, twenty-five. Blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. Blue eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses. A soft figure that her cardigan doesn't quite hide. She blushes at the contact when I shake her hand, her cheeks flushing pink.

*System, Pin of Trust on Miss Delaney.*

[Ah, the pretty young teacher. Pin of Trust applied. +1 trust/hour. Try not to drool, Ben.]

*Focus.*

"I was told you wanted to meet Hope's teachers," she says. "That's so thoughtful."

"I want to be involved in her world. She's a good kid, and I want to support her however I can."

"She's a pleasure to have in class. Her essays show real depth. She has a way with words."

"Must come from her teacher."

She blushes again. "Oh, I don't know about that."

I let the conversation flow naturally. I ask about the curriculum — what novels they're reading, what periods of literature they're covering. She answers eagerly, her hands moving as she speaks. She loves her job. Loves poetry. The Romantics, especially. Wordsworth, Keats, Shelley. She quotes a line from Ode to a Nightingale and her eyes get misty.

Behind my calm expression, my skills are working.

[Trust fund active on Miss Delaney. Medium trust increase.]

[Dog trainer active. Small permanent loyalty increase.]

[Miss Delaney loyalty: 20]

She doesn't notice. She's too happy to have someone who's genuinely interested.

I study her as she talks. She's lonely. I can see it in the way she clings to the conversation, the way she laughs a little too long at my jokes. Young, pretty, dedicated, but without a social life. In a town like this, a single woman her age doesn't have many options. The men here are either married, too old, or too set in their ways to appreciate a woman who quotes poetry.

"If you ever want to discuss literature outside of school," I say, "I'd be happy to. I'm a poetry enthusiast myself."

Her eyes light up. "Really?"

"Really. I don't get many chances to talk about it." Actually, I really meant it; poetry has always been one of my secret joys.

"I know what you mean. It's hard to find people who appreciate the classics around here."

"Then we should fix that. Coffee sometime, perhaps."

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'd like that."

Her voice is soft. Hopeful. She's already imagining it — a conversation with someone who sees her as more than just the English teacher.

I stay for another ten minutes, building rapport, sharing opinions about various poets, laughing at her stories about teaching teenagers who don't care about iambic pentameter. She tells me about a student who wrote a modern rap version of Macbeth for extra credit. We laugh together. It feels natural.

When I finally stand to leave, she shakes my hand again, holding it a moment longer than necessary.

[Miss Delaney loyalty: 25]

[Miss Delaney trust: 35]

[Miss Delaney horniness: 12]

Interesting. She's not aware of it, but her body is responding. The flush on her cheeks, the way her pupils dilated when I leaned closer to look at her bookshelf. Small signs.

I walk back to the office. Mrs. Higgins smiles as I enter.

"How did it go?"

"Great. Everyone's been very welcoming."

"We're glad to have you, Mr. Roberts."

I sit down in the waiting area, pulling out my phone. A few minutes later, I hear footsteps in the hallway. I glance up.

A pair of girls walk past the office door, arm in arm, heads close together. Same face. Same height. Same shade of brown hair. They've personalized their uniforms in small ways — different ribbons in their braids, different socks.

The twins. Dana and Gina.

I watch them pass, then look down at my phone. Can't stare. Not in this town.

But I file their faces away. Soon enough, I'll be seeing them up close.

I wait a few minutes, then stand and stretch. Time to find Hope between classes and see how her morning is going.

I find her in the hallway near the main entrance, walking with Melissa. She spots me and excuses herself, jogging over.

"Daddy! How's it going?"

"Good. Met your teachers. They all say you're doing well."

She beams. "Told you I'm a good girl."

"The best girl." I ruffle her hair. She pretends to be annoyed. "What's your next class?"

"Math. Mr. Harrison."

"I just met him. Seems nice."

"He's okay. A bit boring, but he explains things well."

"Oh? No more "equations" with daddy, then?" I tease her, smirking.

"Daddyyy!!!", Hope cutely pouts, her eyes big and round at the scary thought of having to go through algebra without bouncing up and down on my dick.

I chuckle and pat her head, and she huffs in response. Awww, so cute...

She glances down the hallway. I follow her gaze. Hester is walking past, textbook clutched to her chest, eyes fixed ahead. She doesn't look at us.

"She seems nervous," Hope says quietly.

"The apology is weighing on her."

"She hasn't done it yet?"

"She's waiting for the right moment."

The bell rings. Hope hugs me and runs off to class.

I head back toward the office. As I pass the secretary's desk, Mrs. Higgins smiles at me. The Pin of Trust is doing its work.

[Mrs. Higgins trust: 57]

Every hour, she trusts me a little more.

I sit down and check the system.

[PDP: 64000]

[Skills active: Trust fund, Dog trainer, Seduction aura]

[Pins active: Mrs. Higgins, Mrs. Albright, Mr. Harrison, Miss Delaney]

[Daughters: 2]

[Followers: 1]

Good. The morning blowjob earned me eight hundred PDP. Steady income.

I wonder if Mr. Harrison is on Paul's list of potential boarding school teachers. Probably not. But Paul should have a list. I'll ask him when we meet later.

For now, I wait. Lunch is in an hour.