Ken kept his eyes trained on his homework as the chair in front of him groaned against the hardwood, interrupting the soft patter of rain as it began to fall against the school building. Kaneko didn’t normally see rain for another month, and the ambiance had been helping him study, so he frowned at the sudden noise.

“There you are,” said the short-haired boy, sitting backwards in the chair he’d dragged up. He leaned down, rested his forearms casually on the seat back, and studied Ken with his narrow features. “You know it’s lunchtime, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just trying to get a head start on this assignment.” Ken highlighted a line at random in his textbook in an attempt to stay focused on his work, but Raymond Hano, his best friend and president of the tech crew, wouldn’t be deterred.

Ray cocked his head slightly. “What’s up with you, anyway?”

“What?”

“You didn’t text me back yesterday.”

“You texted me?” Ken put his pen down and pulled out his phone, homework forgotten.

“Yeah, dude. I feel like I haven’t seen you all semester.”

“Sorry, I…” He checked the timestamp of the message. “Oh. I was having a session with the math tutor my mom hired.”

“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Guess who it is, though.”

Ray didn’t even blink. “Amy Matsumura.”

“How did you…”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows Amy’s a math tutor. This is basic Kaneko lore, even for a recluse like you.” Ray sighed, as if Ken’s ignorance of the social hierarchy at Kaneko disappointed him. “So are you gonna fuck her or not?” Ray didn’t bother whispering, mostly because he never did.

“Jeez, dude!” Ken looked around in a panic, but nobody had heard. A few students were eating lunch in small groups around the classroom, but most had left for the cafeteria. “I–I don’t know, probably not!”

“Well then you better text me back next time.” Ray said it matter-of-factly, as if the only thing he considered a greater priority than his company would be hooking up with the hottest girl in the school. Ken supposed that was fair.

“My bad, I must’ve forgot. That sucks… I would’ve been down to hang out, too.” In truth, Ken didn’t remember getting the text at all, which struck him as peculiar.

“You’re probably out of luck though. She only dates college guys.”

“Really?” Ken tried to sound uninterested.

Ray shrugged. “Just a rumor I heard. More advanced Kaneko lore, you could say.”

“So kinda like how your girlfriend goes to a different school.”

“Exactly, and she doesn’t have social media either. Don’t worry, you’ll meet her soon. She’s gonna come to the culture festival this year.” Ken could have sworn Ray had said that last year. “Now put those books away so I can eat my lunch.” Implied, of course, was that Ken would also have to eat lunch. Ray had a funny way of making you feel included.

—

Ken stepped out into the afternoon rain unbothered by the gloomy weather. Mrs. Furukawa’s voice from last period still rang in his ears from when she’d passed back their graded homework assignments.

“Ken. Very good,” she’d murmured as she moved across the classroom, and Ken almost fell out of his chair when he saw the grade.

91?!

It was as if the rain clouds had parted for a split second and an angel had bestowed a blessing on him. He wanted to take the paper out and admire it on the walk home, but then it would get too soaked to show Amy when she arrived after her student council meeting.

Part of his excitement too, he admitted, was simply being able to spend more time with the vice president. Enjoying her beautiful smile every time he answered her questions correctly… her reassuring words, oozing serene confidence… and although he’d managed to pay attention in his classes, his thoughts always seemed to drift back to her in the breaks between.

Okay, maybe he had a little bit of a crush. But this wasn’t like the crush he’d had on Steph–this was more like admiration. From a distance, of course.

God, he couldn’t believe he was going to sit right next to her.

Ken didn’t even realize he’d gotten wet until he reached his driveway. He’d brought a raincoat to school but not an umbrella like his mother had suggested, and finally the water had soaked through his pants enough for him to notice through his good mood. He opened the front door dripping wet, his socks squishing as he removed his shoes in the entryway.

“Hello?” Ken called, but nobody answered. “Hello?” This wasn’t entirely unexpected: his mom had texted him that she and his dad would be picking up pizza together, and Amy had student council. So with the house empty, Ken unceremoniously stripped off his slacks, marched upstairs, and opened the bathroom door for a quick shower.

And there, standing just behind the glass of his small bathroom’s walk-in shower, was Amy Matsumura.

Stark. Fucking. Naked.

Time slowed to nearly a halt as Ken’s brain processed her unexpected presence, and her figure on display in front of him. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was now: Amy Matsumura was the most beautiful girl on the face of the earth. His eyes ran up her body, absorbing every flawless detail: her long, smooth legs, one knee slightly bent as she scrubbed it with a large sponge; her pert, round ass swaying in his direction; her flat stomach, with just the hint of a six-pack showing; and, he finally saw as she turned toward him, her large, teardrop-shaped breasts, sloping gently upwards, nipples just barely covered by an arm that she’d drawn across her chest.

Illuminated by a single halo-like ceiling light, every inch of Amy’s clear skin glistened with water, like a model in a soap commercial. Suds dripped lazily off her breasts, down her torso, and past her crotch, which she had managed to cover with her sponge just before Ken could catch a glimpse of it. Ken’s eyes lingered a moment too long, imagining how she must have rubbed it all over her tits and waist and every place on her body he fantasized about touching.

Amy Matsumura was an angel. An angel who was using his shower. Her lovely face contorted into a look of panic. An angel who definitely had not expected to be walked in on. Shit.

Ken ran out as Amy shrieked. It was an ugly sound, so painfully loud that Ken couldn’t hear himself apologizing as he slammed the door shut.

“Pervert!” Amy yelled through the wall, and Ken ran back into his room in a panic. Anxious thoughts raced through his head as he paced around in his small circle of floor space. Would she still tutor him? Was she even going to stay for dinner? Did she hate him now? Would she use her student council powers to get him expelled? Okay–that last one was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help worrying about it. The truth was Amy’s tutoring sessions were the only good thing that had happened to him in a long time, and the possibility of losing her mentorship really did scare him, especially considering it was squarely his fault for walking in on her.

Ken put on some dry clothes and, having given up on showering, tried to study a little, with no success in the face of his ability to catastrophize. Finally his mother called him, and slowly, hesitantly, he descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. There he found Amy munching on pizza, clad in a pair of Ken’s athletic shorts and his softest hoodie–an old one, faded off-white with age.

“Amy already started!” His mother announced happily while he gaped in confusion, or maybe surprise. “Grab a plate.”

Ken and Amy avoided eye contact as he sat down gingerly in the empty seat next to her, across from his parents. As if sensing the awkwardness between them, his mother spoke up again. “Amy got wet on the way here, so I had her shower and gave her some of your clothes. I hope that’s okay.”

“Y-yeah, that’s fine…” Great. I’m stuttering again.

“She’s closer to your height than mine,” his mother added, smiling, “so I thought yours would fit better!”

Ken stared down in silence at his pizza, his face going flush. What could you even say to that? Somehow, his mother had found the only possible way to embarrass him any more than he already was. He felt bad for Amy, too–having to wear some pervert’s clothes probably made her even more uncomfortable than he was.

Fortunately Amy, probably eager to change the subject, spoke up next. “So how was your weekend, Mrs. Nishihara?” she asked. “You were going on a trip, right?”

Dinner continued as smoothly as Ken could have hoped. Ken’s mother had gone to a hot spring with her friends to get some respite from the dismal March weather, and Amy immediately took an interest in it, as the student council had been looking for one to visit for the end-of-year class trip. His parents, in turn, asked about her college plans–she’d signed up for the entrance exams for basically every top college in the region–and Ken found himself relieved at not having to carry the conversation. Everyone beamed when Ken brought up the A-minus on his assignment, though his parents seemed even more impressed with his tutor, and her ability to reach even the most hopeless of students. That was okay though, Ken supposed–anything to distract him from thinking about their earlier encounter.

After the meal Amy brought her plate to the sink, but Ken’s mother shooed her away. “Ah ah ah,” she said. “I’ll take care of the dishes. You two have work to do. You’re studying in Ken’s room again, right?”

Ken made eye contact with her for the first time since the shower. They both stuttered for a moment, then Amy cleared her throat and smiled sweetly. “Of course, Mrs. Nishihara. Thank you for the meal!”

Upstairs, Ken’s heart raced again. “Listen, Amy… I’m sorry about earlier. I really didn’t mean to walk in on you like that.”

“Thanks, Ken. But it was my fault, really. I should’ve worn a raincoat, and locked the door, and all that stuff, and I just totally forgot. I’ve been super disorganized today.” She sighed, more at her own shortcomings than at having exposed herself to him, Ken thought.

“Well you’re still the most organized person I know, if it makes you feel any better,” he said.

“Right. Um, also…” The rain outside filled a long moment of silence between them. He looked at her long eyelashes as she stared at the floor, imagining an alternative reality where she could have been a model for one of those comfy streetwear companies, enjoying the sound of the rain while sipping tea that she held through her oversize hoodie sleeves, or something. “I’m sorry I called you a pervert. I didn’t mean that.”

“Oh. It’s not a big deal, really. I understand.”

“Let’s just… forget this whole thing happened, okay?” Amy finally met his gaze and smiled at him.

“Yeah… sounds good. Oh–that reminds me…”

“Hmm?”

“This is going to sound weird, but… I feel like I’ve been forgetting bits of our sessions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I’m not sure. I missed a text from my friend yesterday, which I don’t normally do. And… when you were showing me your fractal project, I felt…” Ken struggled to find a word other than ‘horny.’ “...funny.”

Amy seemed to straighten up in her chair. “In-ter-es-ting.” She enunciated every syllable separately, like a doctor pondering a diagnosis. “Do you think maybe you’re getting sick?”

“No, no, that’s not it…”

“You’re understanding the material, right? You did great on that assignment…”

“I know, it’s just…” Ken scratched the back of his head. “...peculiar. I guess if you see me going faint or something, let me know,” he joked.

Amy laughed and touched his arm lightly. “Of course. Thanks for the hoodie, by the way. It’s super comfy.” She stroked his arm a few times with the sleeve playfully, and a pleasant shiver ran down Ken’s spine. Amy’s touch quieted his thoughts–or rather, focused them toward her.

Amy assigned Ken a few practice problems–the test, she reminded him, was all the way on Friday–and he worked through them diligently until he noticed that Amy had penciled in a star next to the final one and a note that said ‘see me for info.’

“What’s this?” Ken asked.

“So… you don’t technically have to do this problem. It’s on polar coordinates, which Mrs. Furukawa always says won’t be on the exam. But having tutored for this class before, it’s almost a guarantee she’ll put a bonus question on there about them. So if you really want the best chance of acing it, it’s a good idea to learn about them.”

“Well if you say so, then I will.” As far as Ken was concerned, the more personal attention Amy gave him, the better.

Amy had Ken scootch over, so that the table leg lay in between his own, while she drew a graph and explained the basics of polar coordinates, and how they differed from cartesian ones. Then she instructed him to plot the graph “r = theta” on paper.

“So, what does it look like?” Amy asked as Ken used his pencil to connect all the dots he’d drawn.

“A… spiral?”

“Exactly,” Amy said, the energy in her voice rising slightly. She leaned toward Ken, her borrowed hoodie brushing up against his side. Ken felt a faint sense of deja vu, like he’d noticed this body language before in some faded memory but couldn’t quite place it.

“I feel like I saw a lot of these in that fractal yesterday.”

“Hm… I suppose you’re right. See? You remember just fine~” Amy began to subtly rub up and down against him, lightly enough so that only the soft fabric of the sweatshirt touched Ken’s arm. Ken allowed his eyes to flutter for a moment, unable to resist savoring the stimulation.

“Um. Does… the spiral keep going outward? Because the angle just wraps back around, doesn’t it? How does that work?”

“Ah–that’s exactly what I wanted to show you. Here, look at this.” Amy pulled out her calculator–an ugly, brick-like thing larger than most phones, and therefore probably attractive to Amy as a technophobe. She pressed a few buttons, and the spiral plot appeared on the calculator’s pixelated screen. “I know it’s not as pretty as the Mandelbrot Set, but you’ll see that, as the plot zooms outward, the graph continues to spiral even more.” She pressed another button, and a crude animation began to play. Sure enough, the spiral compressed as more and more tick marks became visible on the axes. Ken followed the outer tip of the spiral with his eyes as it traced a circle around the edge of the screen.

“Because even though two-pi is technically the same angle as zero, when you plug it into the formula, it gives you a different result. And that’s because it’s more like an ‘amount of rotation’ rather than an ‘angle.’ It can keep going, and going, and going–four pi, and six pi, and eight pi, and so forth. And maybe you can imagine yourself plotting all those different points on the graph as my calculator shows them. Focus on that for me now.”

Somewhere in the back of Ken’s mind, a vague set of worried thoughts surfaced. She’d done this before, hadn’t she? Maybe several times by now; he couldn’t remember. She’d show him a problem and he’d end up with a hole in his memory. She’d acted innocent when he asked her about it, but he could have sworn he’d seen a glint in her eye. And she’d seemed really interested in showing him this one. Which meant…

Amy’s hair cascaded over Ken’ shoulder as she leaned her head toward his ear. Long, soft strands, all dry and fluffy from the shower. He imagined being lucky enough that she’d allow him to rest his head against hers at the end of a long, tiring day.

“I’d like you to really pay attention to this next part, okay?” Amy pointed at the calculator, following the swirling pattern around and around, and Ken’s eyes followed her finger obediently.

He racked his brain as best as he could as the spiral continued to sap his attention, trying to remember what Amy was going to do next. What happened when his tutor used that soothing tone of voice? What happened when that sly look crept over her face?

Amy’s hand found his waist and squeezed subtly. “Ken? Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” Ken said reflexively. It was pointless. The answer lay just out of his reach, and he suspected that Amy was keeping it there, stringing him along for some ulterior agenda, but he couldn’t quite figure out how.

“Good.” In one smooth motion Amy brought her pointing hand right in front of Ken’s face, snapped her fingers softly, and pointed down. “Sleep.”

Ken’s head dropped instantly, primed for obedience through days of hypnotic conditioning.

“That’s it. Nice and deep for me, just like we always do.“ Amy whispered, in case Ken’s parents happened to pass by. “No resistance. No thought. Just that vast, wonderful emptiness as you drink in my voice and await my commands.

“It’s so interesting what we remember and forget, isn’t it Ken? Sometimes we forget the simplest things, like our school books, or our wallet. And sometimes we remember the most obscure details from years ago, like a nice summer’s day among a sea of other pleasant memories.

“And sometimes you remember things you thought you’d forgotten, like how to do a math problem, or how you react to my voice when we’re alone together. Because even if it’s buried in your subconscious, all it takes is for me to tell you to relax for me, and you spiral even further down as my words tighten their grip on your mind.” As if to emphasize the point, Amy squeezed gently on the small of Ken’s back.

“And it makes sense that, if you can forget to remember so easily, you could also remember to forget. You could let go of any memory you so choose, casting it into the spiral while your sleepy mind remembers only what’s important. Which is, of course, whatever I tell you is important. Can you imagine doing that, Ken? Releasing your memories into the spiral?”

Ken let out a low, affirmative moan.

“I’d like you to slowly open your eyes just a little so you can see the spiral again. Eyes open, staying just as deep, just as empty. Readying yourself to forget to remember, or to remember to forget, or any two of remembering or forgetting that make sense to do when I command it, because you’re still so deeply focused on following my voice that forgetting… and remembering… are the only two things you’re capable of right now. And remembering is so, so difficult sometimes that I think we’ll start by forgetting, don’t you?”

Ken’s entire body felt so impossibly heavy that it took all his concentration just to murmur a “yes.”

“Because the truth is you don’t need to remember certain things, like why you respond the way you do when I say certain words. You can let it become instinctive. All you need to remember is that it’s right. That it feels good ... and know that it will feel even better to forget any memory I tell you to let go of. Any time I tell you to let go, you will no longer be able to retrieve that memory. It will fade into nothingness, into the very center of the spiral. And as I count to three and say those special words, you’ll forget me even telling you this. You’ll feel as if the command has been there since the beginning of time. After the short countdown of three… two… one… let go.”

Ken relaxed, and his eyelids blinked closed. Then they opened reluctantly, revealing glassy and unfocused pupils.

Amy crossed her legs, causing Ken’s athletic shorts to ride up her thighs, but he didn’t even notice, enraptured by the spiral on Amy’s calculator, which had long stopped expanding and now swirled in place lazily.

“Did the memory disappear into the spiral, Ken?”

“Yes…” Ken said distantly. “I think…”

“It’s hard to tell when you can’t recall what it was, isn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“Good. There’s one more thing I’d like you to forget for me, Ken. You’re going to release the memory of seeing me naked in the shower.”

“Yeh–wait…” Ken’s voice was weak but audible, straining under the confines of the trance.

“Yes, that’s what you’re going to do.”

“Please… no…”

“Oh?” Amy raised an eyebrow. ”Why not?”

“I–I–”

Amy seemed to tower over Ken. “Look at me, and stop stuttering. Why. Not.”

Ken wrenched his gaze from the mesmerizing spiral only to find Amy’s purple eyes waiting to attract his full attention. While he marveled at the colors and patterns in her iris, the tiny part of him still capable of critical thought realized he was trapped. Amy Matsumura would squeeze the truth out of him one way or another. She was smarter than him, and more clever, and–he was beginning to realize–much more devious.

“Because I liked it,” Ken said weakly.

“It’s very bad of you to spy on naked girls like that, Ken Nishihara,” Amy whispered. “If I didn’t know you better, do you know what I’d say that makes you?”

“No…”

“A pervert.”

Ken’s cock twitched in his pants, in plain view of his tutor. It wasn’t that he liked the idea of peeping on girls–it was that Amy teasing him for it, using his own desires against him, steamed him up more than anything he could imagine.

“So,” she continued, “if I’m going to allow you that privilege, what do I get in return?”

“Anything.” Maybe it was the trance clouding his thoughts, but in that moment Ken truly would have promised anything. Anything to stay in Amy’s good graces. Anything to spend more time with her. Anything for Amy Matsumura.

“An-y-thing? You really like me that much?”

Ken nodded.

“Then I’m going to have some fun with you. You’re going to show me exactly how much you like me. I want to see what that does when you think about my body.” Amy pointed at the tent in Ken’s pants, which jerked even higher, as if beckoned by her finger.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me,” she said. “I want you to work it for me.”

“But why? Why me? I’m no one, and you’re…”

Amy brought her pointing finger up to her mouth and pouted innocently. “I’m what…?”

“Don’t you know what everyone calls you?”

A wicked grin crept over Amy’s face. She lived for this, Ken realized. Maybe, he thought faintly, it had even been her plan all along. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Everyone calls you… they call you princess.” Ken practically doubled over in arousal as his cock convulsed under his pants. Amy covered her mouth with her hand in mock surprise.

“Oh? Well, do you think I’m a princess?”

“Yes! Of course! You’re… incredible… you’re perfect.”

Amy merely nodded. “Then from now on, whenever we’re alone, you are to address me as such. You will call me princess, or miss. Do you understand?”

“Yes, princess.” Pleasure racked Ken’s body. While physically he could only feel his own clothes against his shaft, Amy’s voice seemed to multiply the stimulation, setting every nerve in his body on fire. “Princess… what does that make the two of us then?”

“What does it ‘make’ us?”

“Are we like, dating or something? I don’t… um… know if I can…” Ken knew he sounded pathetic, but seeing Steph the day before had cemented his resolve not to date until college, even under Amy’s hypnotic influence.

Amy laughed, the way a queen might at a court jester. “No sweetie,” she said, “you’re not going to date me. You’re not going to fuck me, or kiss me, or even hold my cute little hand. You are going to entertain me. You’re going to sit there and buck your cock while you stare at my pretty face, because I find you amusing. And because princess gets whatever she wants. And in return for doing everything I say, I’ll keep tutoring you like nothing ever happened between us. Understood?”

“Yes, princess.”

“Good. Now, squirm for me.”

Ken moved his hands down to his crotch, but Amy stopped him. “Ah ah–no touching. And keep your pants on. We wouldn’t want mommy or daddy walking in and finding out your little secret, would we?” The reminder that Amy had so easily taken control in Ken’s own home sent another tingle of electric pleasure through his body.

“No, princess.” God, when did she become so condescending? “But what do I–”

“‘But what do I do?’” she mocked. “You do what comes natural. You squirm, and you worship me, and the pleasure will overflow. Princess makes you feel so good you don’t need to touch.” Amy leaned in closer and put her arm around Ken’s shoulder, practically swaddling him in soft fabric. He mewled helplessly, unable–or unwilling–to escape her embrace, and began to grind his cock against the leg of his desk, desperate for more stimulation. His hips rolled back and forth on the edge of his chair, and all the while his eyes stayed glued to Amy’s, mere inches from his own. He never would have believed a popular girl like her would take any kind of sexual interest in him. Part of him still didn’t. Surely she already had boys lined up at school, ready to obey her every whim. After all, a few seconds of eye contact had him completely mesmerized. His mouth hung open in awe as pleasure radiated outward from his core, threatening to spill over.

“Are you getting close?” she asked.

“Yes, miss Amy.”

“Do you want me to push you over the edge?”

“Yes, miss Amy.”

“Then beg me.”

“Please, princess. Please let me cum. I’m aching so bad for you it’s embarrassing. I’ve never been this turned on before by anyone. You’re all I think about. Please let me release for you. Please…” The words spilled out of Ken’s mouth in a stream of consciousness as he humped his desk frantically, encouraged by Amy’s hand as it pressed into his back.

“Oooh, good boy. That’s exactly what I like to hear.” Slowly, languorously, Amy lifted the hoodie, first over her shapely hips, then up her slim waist, and finally over her chest, revealing a shiny black bra that strained under the weight of her full breasts.

“Now cum for me,” she said, squeezing them through the fabric and causing a delicious jiggle that drove Ken wild with desire. “Cum for me, pervert.”

It was too much. Ken erupted, spraying warm cum into his boxers. He began to yelp from the unexpected release, but Amy was ready. Holding the hoodie up with one hand she clapped the other over his mouth, stifling his moans while he stared dazedly down at her bosom, mind overwhelmed with lust.

“Shhh sh sh,” she cooed, “that’s it. Let it allll out. Empty those balls for princess.” The orgasm pulsed over and over, the pleasure relentless as sticky white cream coated his underwear. He didn’t take his eyes off of Amy’s glorious rack for what must have been over a minute as aftershocks rippled through him.

“Wow…” Ken said as Amy finally dropped the hoodie.

“What do you say?” Her borrowed shorts rode up perilously high on her thigh as she sat back in her chair and crossed a leg over her knee, enjoying the stunned look on her pupil’s face.

“Thank you, princess.”

“You are quite welcome.” She held a hand up and snapped her fingers again softly. “Now sleep.”

Ken remembered little of the trance that followed. He remembered Amy’s tone softening as she reassured him and relaxed him. He remembered, at least for a little while, her telling him to let go of his memories about how she had hypnotized him. And then nothing, as he drifted into sweet hypnotic bliss once again, buoyed by the gentle lilt of her voice.

—

Ken awoke to the rustling of clothes on skin. He opened his eyes halfway to catch a glimpse of Amy’s bra and the small of her back before they disappeared under the school button-down she was putting on.

“Uh, Amy? Amy, you’re…” After blinking the sleep from his eyes, Ken shielded his face with one hand.

Amy laughed. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. You missed the show this time,” she teased.

“How long was I out for?” Ken lowered his hand.

She turned toward him and began to button up the shirt, her cleavage flashing in and out of view as she played with the fabric. “Oh, maybe a half hour. Enough time for your mom to finish drying my school uniform. I wanted to wake you, but you’ve been working really hard for me this week, so I thought I’d give you a break. And you aced all my review problems except that polar coordinates one, so I think you’re on track for the exam.”

Ken shifted in his chair, and then he felt it: the sticky sensation of cum on the inside of his clothes. And then he remembered, just a little. Just the part where she’d given him the most powerful orgasm of his life by making him hump the leg of his desk like an animal. “You…” Ken’s eyes went wide.

Amy’s cleavage slowly disappeared as she finished buttoning up her shirt. “That’s not what we agreed you’d call me,” she said with a smirk.

“Princess.” He couldn’t remember how he knew to say the word; it just seemed to fall out of his mouth. And it fit her.

Amy grabbed her school tie from a coat hanger that hung on his door and began to deftly tie it around her neck. “Much better, pet.”

“Yes, princess.”

“By the way. Ken?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you getting down on yourself, okay?”

“Huh?”

“I aim to instill a positive attitude in all my pupils, and that means you are not allowed to call yourself nobody. From now on,” Amy said, tugging her tie tight, “the only one who’s allowed to tell you whether or not you’re good enough for anything… is me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, princess.” Ken couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said, but he knew better than to argue with the princess of Kaneko Academy.

“Good boy.” She stood, hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and ruffled his hair, and Ken let out an involuntary groan of satisfaction. Then she grabbed her blazer and satchel and stepped out the door. “I’ll text you tomorrow. I’m pretty busy this week, but I should have time for another session at least, ok?”

“Uh okay… I uh… can’t wait!”

Amy waved, and then she was gone, leaving Ken wishing the headpat had lasted longer. He would have seen her out of the house, but as he began to stand up he felt the cum again and winced. He didn’t understand yet exactly what Amy had done to him, but one thing was certain: Ken was definitely grateful for postponing his shower.