The CoTeacher

[RibbonBound]

Just putting up the first chapter for now, there will be more.  I really appreciate the feedback on my previous story and I hope this one is equally enjoyable.

For the third time, Mike checked his appearance in the mirror. He wasn't sure why he always expected to see something other than his short, boyish reflection staring back at him. The problem wasn't that he was unattractive.  On the contrary, most people described him as cute, adorable, or pretty in a delicate way. Mike's real issue was that he looked about eight years old instead of nearly twenty-one. Doctors had all agreed there was nothing medically wrong; he had simply stopped growing in elementary school, and puberty had mostly passed him by.  The diagnosis settled on "idiopathic short stature with delayed/arrested puberty".  That's the best the doctors could come up with.  The result was what stared back at him now: a 4'8"/142cm delicate, blond figure with smooth skin, a round face, and soft features that everyone read as feminine.  He'd grown out his hair because that was pretty much the only thing that could grow.  He still couldn't grow any facial hair, or any hair below his eyebrows.

Elementary school was mostly okay.  He was small but cute, teachers doted on him, classmates treated him like a mascot. Middle school brought the shift: teasing escalated ("Kindergarten called, they want their kid back"). High school was lonelier.  Friends drifted as they dated, drove, partied; Mike stayed home, excelling academically but socially isolated.  Graduating early with his teaching degree, he resolved he'd be the teacher he wished he had when he was getting bullied.  Everyone told him what a great teacher he'd make.  Being the same size as the kids, they'd relate to him better.  They'd connect with him in a way other teachers couldn't.  And yet there were other teachers in training that would just stare at Mike.  He felt their eyes on him.  Now it was finally here.  Now he had to do his probation assignment before fully graduating.  There was a shortage of open spots for new teachers, but Mike with his high grades had snared one of the coveted spots. 

Today he was trying to look older and professional.  A white dress shirt, black pants, and navy sweater with his hair in a low ponytail.  Instead of projecting young professional, he worried he looked like a little boy playing dress-up in his older brother's clothes. He sighed and shrugged. "Guess this is the best it's going to get." Before he could second-guess himself further, he grabbed his bag and headed out the door.

Shutting the apartment door behind him, Mike hurried down the street to the bus stop. Being late for his first day would be disastrous. He huffed as he speed-walked; life would be so much easier if he could just drive. But his mother had never allowed it, insisting he was "too small and delicate" and that it wouldn't be safe. No amount of begging had changed her mind.  Not when he turned eighteen, not even now that he lived on his own. Until recently she had happily chauffeured him everywhere, but a teaching job five hours from home had forced the issue. After years of college, Mike had finally convinced her he could survive independently. He'd moved into the tiny apartment last week, all he could afford, and spent every day preparing for today.  Ironic that despite all his preparation, he might be late.

He reached the bus stop with seconds to spare. The bus screeched to a halt, and he swiped his fare card before turning to the driver.

Just as his mother had drilled into him, he cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me, ma'am? I need to go to McHenry High School, and I want to make sure I don't miss my stop." He shifted nervously from foot to foot.

The driver looked him up and down. "Sure thing, honey. It's not far—I'll call it out when we're close. But... are you sure it's McHenry High? That's the high school. The middle school's closer, sweetheart. Or maybe the elementary?"

Mike cut in quickly. "No, I'm sure. That's where I'm going."

The driver shrugged. "Alright then, little miss. Take a seat, and please stay seated while we're moving. It can be dangerous for a tiny thing like you."

Mike blurted back, "I'm a guy... A boy... A man, I mean." Once again he second-guessed his decision to grow his hair out. Some people thought he was a girl even when he had it short, his high naturally high-pitched voice working against him, but since he decided to grow his hair longer more people had been making that mistake.  Including the bus driver, clearly.  Even keeping it back in a low ponytail didn't help. The problem was that his hair grew thick and lustrous and he kind of liked how it looked. He thought it made him look more dangerous, more devil-may-care. But once again he worried that maybe he should cut it short for the teaching job.  Maybe he would.

Mike gave a tight, frustrated sigh and found a seat. He was used to the treatment, but it still stung. He stared out the window as the town blurred past.

Much sooner than expected, the bus stopped in front of the familiar brick building. "This is you, sweetie," the driver called. Mike didn't know if she hadn't heard what he'd said about being a boy... Or just didn't care. Either way, Mike stood and gathered his bag. As he passed, the driver stopped him again. "You sure this is the right stop, honey? The middle school's just down the street."

Fighting for patience and not wanting to start the day with an outburst, Mike forced a smile. "Thank you, ma'am, but I'm positive. I need the high school."

The driver shrugged. "If you say so, just be careful. Those big kids can be rough on the little ones like you."

"Thanks," Mike mumbled, stepping off.

Standing on the sidewalk, he gazed up at the imposing building, gathered his courage, and walked through the front doors.

[RibbonBound]

Inside was chaos.  Shouting, bodies surging in every direction. Adults barked directions while students of every size rushed past. Mike was, as always, smaller than everyone. He tried to remember the route to the main office from his interview day, but the empty building had looked completely different.

He edged along the wall, dodging elbows and backpacks. When a break in the crowd didn't appear, he took a breath and stepped sideways into the flow.

SLAM.

The bell rang as Mike collided with a solid stomach. He would have fallen backward if strong hands hadn't wrapped around him in a protective hug. Mike gulped, looked up... And met predatory eyes and a bright smile.  For a moment he'd worried he'd ran into a student, but this woman was clearly older, about his age.  She looked familiar and Mike thought maybe he'd seen her in some of his college classes.  Of course, she was probably a new teacher like himself.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the tall young woman said, giving him a gentle squeeze. "You really need to watch where you're going. This hallway's dangerous for a pretty little thing like you."

Mike averted his eyes at the comment.  She must've thought he was a student.  And like the bus driver, the long hair made her think Mike was a girl.  He sighed.  He could've spoken up, but he just didn't want to have this conversation at the moment.  He just wanted to report in at the office.  So he kept his head down.

The hallway was emptying as the woman looked him over, checking for injury.  Her touch gentle but persistent. Satisfied, she cupped his chin and tilted his face up. "You seem okay, cutie, but are you sure you're in the right place? You look like you belong in middle school... maybe even elementary."  Her smile seemed a little too big, like she was amused at some private joke.

Mike stiffened and tried to pull back from the arm still encircling him. "This is where I need to be," he said, voice higher than intended. "I'm going in there." He pointed to the main office door beside them.

She stroked his hair lightly. "My my, you're so soft. And so pretty." Her eyes sparkled. 

Blushing furiously, Mike tried to look away.  He realized now he should've told her he was a teacher, but now if he told her it would become awkward.  He just wanted to get away.  He started to walk past her, when suddenly his arm was grabbed and a hand gripped his jaw, turning his face towards hers.

"Hey now, sweetheart, what should a polite little girl say when someone gives her a compliment?"

Feeling trapped, Mike mumbled, "Thank you".  For the first time, he hoped she didn't notice that he was actually a young man and start asking questions.  Luckily, she didn't.

The woman chuckled and released him with a pat on the head. "That's a good little girl. And if you're sure you belong here, the office is right through that door."

Mike shifted his bag. "Thanks," he said more clearly, stepping inside.

"No problem, cutie," she called, winking as the door closed. "See you around."

Mike took a steadying breath, happy to have escaped the weird woman.  There seemed to be something wrong with her that disturbed him.  Having calmed himself, he turned to see one of the secretaries.  He smiled at her, and she smiled back.  "Hi, I'm Michael Shea. I'm the new English teacher."

The morning passed in a blur: meeting the principal, touring the building, settling into his classroom. The principal apologized that Mike's credentials hadn't shown up with the other new teachers, but promised he'd get them soon.  Mike looked down at his temporary credentials:  The part that read "GUEST" was fine, but it appears that all the lanyards were decorated with various themes, and the one they had given Mike was from the women's empowerment week, and thus had a large "Girls Can Do Anything!" written on it while being decorated with flowers and butterflies.  He kind of let it slide behind his tie as he started his day.

Mike survived three classes, lunch and a break. The students had been taken aback at their tiny teacher, but with the chaos of the first days, they didn't really react.  He was finally starting to feel steady when last-period Senior Literature began.

Mike looked up and froze. The tall weird woman from the hallway was standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed, smiling at him with a knowing look. His stomach flipped. She wore a crisp blouse and slacks, and a lanyard with a staff ID dangled from her neck, confirming that she was staff as Mike had guessed.

He stood and cleared his throat. "I'm Mike Shea, and this is Senior Literature."

He stepped forward and immediately staggered when his untied shoelace caught under his foot. He caught himself, cheeks burning. The woman's eyes locked on his; she mouthed a smirking, "Careful, sweetheart."

Mike turned to the whiteboard, confused.  Without knowing what to say or do he began writing, pretending not to notice her gaze.  Who was this woman?  He watched from the corner of his eye as she slipped into the back of the room and observed quietly through the period.  Mike just ignored her, teaching as he normally would.  Was she supposed to be assisting him?  Reviewing him?  Near the end, as students filed out, she lingered.

Alone, Mike gathered the contact/info sheets students had left.  She approached his desk, still smiling.

"Hello again, sweetheart," she said softly. "How was your first day?"  By now she had to know he was a teacher, so he had to assume she was deliberately taunting him.  Mike decided he needed to figure this woman out.

[RibbonBound]

Mike fixed her with his sternest look. "You cannot keep calling me 'sweetheart'. It's inappropriate. I'm a teacher here, a professional. And clearly you are as well.  We both need to act like professionals."

Her smile didn't waver. "Do we?  I know exactly who you are, Michael Shea. You got the job I applied for.  The one I need. The one I interviewed for twice. They said you were ‘uniquely qualified'". She tilted her head. "I can see why.  Not all of us are lucky enough to be so... Equipped to relate to our students"

Mike swallowed. "That's... that's not—"

She stepped closer. "Relax. I'm not here to cause a scene. Yet." She placed a single sheet of paper on his desk. "This is a proposal for co-teaching the Senior Literature section. We'd share responsibility, shared planning, shared grading, shared classroom. The principal already said he's open to it if both parties agree. He thinks it would be ‘wonderful professional development' for two brand-new teachers and that way I get my probationary period out of the way too."

Mike glanced at the form. It was printed on school letterhead, already filled out. A signature line waited at the bottom.  At least the paper finally solved the answer of who this woman was.  Tanya Vale was the name on the form.  Tanya.  Now he remembered.  She was one of the other students who had stared at him all the time in class.  He'd avoided her.  Avoided looking at her, avoided interacting with her because he didn't want to deal with her because she clearly was obsessed with him.

Mike knew they only did co-teachers when one of the teachers was suspect and needed supervision.  So anyone with a co-teacher credit was seen as secondary.  Mike knew that if he was a co-teacher for his probationary period, it wouldn't be looked on well for future jobs.  They'd see it as he couldn't do it by himself and Mike wasn't going to go for that. 

"I don't want a co-teacher," he said quietly. "I was hired to teach this class myself and I deserve the full credit."

Tanya sighed and turned toward the door. Mike relaxed... Until she shut it and locked it with a click.

He jumped. "What... what are you doing?"

Tanya walked back slowly. "We just need to work on that listening problem, sweetheart. My mother always said little ones behave better when they can't pretend to be big anymore."

Mike gulped. "What does that mean?"

Still smiling, she stopped in front of him. "You never tied this, even after you almost tripped earlier?" She reached down, lifted his foot, and shook the untied shoe.

Mike stared at his foot in her grip. "Things got busy... It always comes loose on it's own..."

Tanya nodded. "It's not safe." She pushed him back onto a chair.  While he was off balance, she pulled off the shoe, then the other, dropping them aside. In seconds she stripped off both his socks and tucked them into her handbag.

"HEY!", Mike protested.  In response, she took both his bare feet in her hands, thumbs circling the soft soles. "God, sweetheart, you have the tiniest, cutest little feet. I might just have to keep you barefoot."

Mike finally snapped out of his daze. "What are you doing?" He kicked weakly, but Tanya's grip held him fast.  Mike was reminded that this woman was twice his size.  He considered yelling for help, but the hallways had cleared when class let out and no one seemed to be around.  He looked at the panic button near the teacher's desk that the Principal had pointed out, but Tanya was obviously aware of it too and he would have to go past her to get to it.

Tanya kept rubbing. "Are you ready to be a good girl and sign the paper now?"  she asked, voice soft and patient. 

He shook his head, jaw tight. "No. I won't. This is insane. Let go of me."  Mike was really getting irritated that she kept calling him a little girl.

Tanya's smile turned playful, almost indulgent. "Oh, sweetheart. Wrong answer."

Before he could react, her fingers shifted—light, skittering touches dancing across the centers of both soles at once. Mike jolted violently, a startled yelp escaping him.

"Wh—stop—!"

She didn't stop. Her nails fluttered under his toes, then swept down the balls of his feet in quick, teasing strokes. Mike's knees buckled; he grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from collapsing, laughter bursting out against his will.

"Hahaha—n-no—stop it—!"

"Such sensitive little feet," Tanya murmured, delighted. "Look at you squirming already. And I haven't even started properly."

She dug in harder, scribbling her fingertips along the tender hollows beneath his toes while her thumbs raked up and down the arches in relentless waves. Mike thrashed, legs kicking uselessly, helpless giggles turning into desperate, breathless cackles.

"Stahahahap—please—Tanya—!"

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "You know what would make this stop, don't you? One little signature. That's all."

He shook his head again, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes from the forced laughter. "N-never—hahaa—I won't—!"

"Brave words for such a ticklish little thing." She switched tactics, pinning one foot against her thigh and attacking the other with both hands—fingernails scratching lightly up the sole, then raking back down in fluttering bursts. Mike arched backward, nearly sliding off the chair, his whole body shaking with uncontrollable laughter and rasping breaths.  She kept going, alternating between feather-light skitters and firmer, scratching strokes, cooing the whole time.

"Aww, listen to that giggle. So cute. Bet none of your students know their tough new teacher turns into a wriggling giggly mess the second someone touches his feet. Should I tell them? Hmm?"

Mike could barely breathe, his face turning red. His arms flailed, trying to push her hands away, but every time he got close she simply caught his wrist with one hand and kept tickling with the other. Minutes stretched into an eternity of helpless, hysterical laughter. His strength drained away with every peal; his kicks grew weaker, his protests dissolving into gasping, broken giggles.

"P-plehehease—stop—I c-can't—hahaaa—!"

Tanya finally eased up, letting her fingers rest lightly on his soles again, just enough to keep him twitching and whimpering.

"Ready to be good now, sweetheart?"

He shook his head weakly, feeling exhausted from being all tickled out. "No. I won't."  He wanted to tell her she was crazy, but he was worried she really might be and didn't want to antagonize her.  Not that he even had the breath to speak further.

Tanya dropped his feet with a disappointed sigh. "Alright, sweetheart. Stand up.  I see we need to go a different route."

When he hesitated, her voice sharpened. "Now, sweetheart. I said stand. Do as you're told."

[sissyboy1212]

Oh come on RibbonBound!  I think it's hilarious we are posting stories at nearly the exact same time, but mostly I am thrilled to see you are sharing another story! Can't wait to read more! xoxo

Loved your previous one obviously!

[RibbonBound]

Afraid she would tickle him further, Mike shot to his feet, the cold tile biting his bare soles.  It was at this point that Mike realized his ponytail holder had fallen off.  His hair was down and loose, falling into his face.  He looked around for the tie, but didn't see it anywhere.

"Good girl. Now raise your arms."

He weakly obeyed, arms slowly raising. Tanya yanked off his sweater, unbuttoned his shirt, and tugged it away. She snapped her fingers. "T-shirt too. Off."

Mike froze, but she pulled it over his head in one motion.  It nearly lifted him off the floor, leaving him bare from the waist up.

He crossed his arms over his chest. Tanya unbuttoned his pants; they dropped to his ankles. "Step out."

Mike stared in horror. "What are you doing? Why—"

"Simple, sweetheart. Little girls behave better when they can't play pretend grown-up. Step. Out."

Trembling, Mike obeyed, stepping free of the pants, worried she was going to yank them out and trip him if he didn't.

Tanya looked him over. "You really are too cute. But these boxers..." She gave the waistband a tug. "I don't like them at all."

Before he could protest, she hooked her fingers in the elastic and yanked them down in one swift motion, leaving him completely naked.  Mike squeaked, hands flying to cover himself.

Tanya laughed softly. "Oh, sweetheart... That's even smaller than I guessed." She tilted her head, teasing. "Is that all you've got down there? No wonder everyone thinks you're a little girl. It's adorable how small and useless it is."  Tanya's hand reached out, tentatively.  To both of their surprise, Mike didn't step back or pull away.  She reached down, her fingers gently running across the sensitive skin.  Mike knew he should be upset, should tell her to back off, but this was the first time he'd ever been touched down there by a woman, and when it gave a little twitch, it felt amazing.

Things were just way out of Mike's expectations.  It had been a long and tiring first day followed by the exhaustion of the sadistic tickling, and now he just didn't know how to respond to all this.  He was just overwhelmed by a crazy, crazy situation.  He wanted to say "Stop".  But as Tanya stopped, he wanted to say "More."  He didn't know what he wanted.  But he certainly wasn't expecting what happened next.

Tanya reached into her bag, putting the boxers inside and then pulled out a pair of glittery pink satin panties.  They had white ruffled lace trimming the waistband and legs and some writing that Mike couldn't make out with them in her hand. "Since you're being so stubborn, we'll fix that right now." She pushed him back on the chair again, knelt and guided his feet through the openings, sliding the soft fabric up his legs. She tugged them into place, again nearly lifting him off the floor as she snapped the waistband lightly against his skin.

"There," she cooed. "Much better. Now you look exactly like the pretty little thing you are."

Mike stood frozen, humiliated, the panties clinging to him, barely a tiny bump on the front to give away he wasn't the little girl he appeared to be.  To his horror, now that the panties were on him, he could make out the writing said 'Mommy’s Little Princess' written around a tiny tiara.

Tanya pulled out her phone. "Smile for me, sweetheart."

He didn't. His look was one of pure horror.  She snapped several photos anyway—full-body shots of him in nothing but the pink panties, face flushed and tear-streaked.

"Stop," he begged. "What are you doing?  You can't take those."

"Relax, baby," she said sweetly. "These are just for me... unless you're a very naughty girl. Then I might have to share them. Wouldn't want the whole faculty seeing what a cute little thing you really are, would we?  Mommy's little princess.  Imagine the Principal's reaction when he sees what his new teacher wears under his outfit."

Mike's stomach dropped.

Tanya tapped the paper. "Now, sweetheart. Sign. You have three seconds or these go straight to the faculty chat. One... two..."

Panicked, not wanting anyone to ever see those pictures, Mike grabbed the pen and signed with a shaky hand.

Tanya beamed. "My good little girl. Thank you, baby. You've made me so happy." She pulled him into a tight hug, kissed the top of his head, then cupped his chin. "I'm sorry I had to be firm, but you made the right choice. Good girl."  Despite what had just happened, Mike felt a swell of pride at the praise.  Wait... No, he shouldn't feel that way.  He should be angry.

As Mike struggled with his feelings, she scooped up the signed form. "You can get dressed in 15 minutes. Until then, sit in your chair in just your pretty new panties and think about how much easier life will be if you listen to your new co-teacher from now on."

Mike sank into the chair, arms wrapped around himself.  He barely had the energy to stand, so Tanya's order to sit for 15 minutes wasn't a problem. Tanya dropped another kiss on his forehead. "I have to get this form to the principal before he leaves so we can start co-teaching tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow, baby.  Remember, you don't move from that chair for 15 minutes or the pictures go out."

She waited for his tiny nod, then unlocked the door and left.

Alone, Mike stared at the clock, fighting tears. At exactly 15 minutes he scrambled into his clothes.  He realized that she'd taken his socks, who knows why.  So he had to put on his shoes without any socks and fled the empty building as fast as his short legs could carry him.

This day was finally over.  And Mike had no idea, couldn't even process what had just happened.

[gunrunner]

"idiopathic short stature with delayed/arrested puberty" I believe the correct term for this is "Peter Pan Syndrome". It is a real thing.
Gee, I had a pathology class like 49 years ago, and I remembered this.