Who would have thought that a mess like me would find a job? It's not that I was a top-tier professor, but I always enjoyed seeing the light of understanding in a child's eye. It felt fulfilling to see that pay off with good grades; looking at their cute little bodies jumping up and down whenever they aced a test. It's was extremely satisfying to think I had contributed to such glee.
A curious detail that amused me was that the class they assigned me was only integrated by females. There was not a single boy or whatsoever in the class I taught into, but a classroom filled with bratty lasses; this, of course, meant nothing but trouble.
As the weeks went by, I got into the groove of teaching. It heartened me to hear from some of the parents that their kids loved me not only for my classes but also loved me as a person; which is curious since I never was a social butterfly, just a nervous introvert who barely talked to his parents. However, I had recently spotted some glances between my students – the feline look in their eyes hinting at their naughty intentions. It's normally fairly difficult to keep schemes a secret from a teacher but, as an adult, I can't keep track of all their endeavors although I always try to be as close as I can to my petite students; what an excuse of a professor would I be if I had no interest for my pupils' well-being. This made me realize the fact that the job I exert is one of the few that allows me to have a normal conversation with little girls, maybe even giving them lovely pats on their head, without getting me quite a lot of undesired attention or perhaps having my name added to a list of some sort. Not that I have any deviant intentions, of course, but it would be a pain to develop a warm relationship with my class while thinking this could deprive me of my freedom at any point.
As their confidence grew, the devilish wenches began to get bolder and bolder. One of the more devious girls had tried putting tacks on my seat — I nearly fell for that one once — and tried rearranging my papers. But, in the end, I shrug it off thinking they were brats being brats; and, if they were having fun at my expense, I might at least indulge their devilry, just a little bit. Who knows, maybe I will get used to their teasing, eventually.
But, in the next class, something happened. One of the more mischievous students approached my desk to review one of her grades, standing close, filling me with a mild sense of discomfort, which would be natural if it weren't a damn child who was making me feel conscious of her nearness, chatting about inconsequential matters. Her hands seemed busy, which is not unnatural by any means: kids fiddle with stuff all the time. So I paid little mind to it although I find it rather cute that their little hands play with anything they can grab. But, having finished my talk with the brat, after standing up to impart the next lesson, I realized — a little too late — that my pants were tied to the desk. Just who could have been responsible for such a sneaky prank? My pants were ripped apart and so was my dignity. A bright shade of red covered my face as I realized that I just had been outplayed by a mere child — an Elementary grade-schooler, barely old enough to know that Santa isn't real, had ridiculed me in front of her classmates. I made a clumsy attempt to cover my nether regions, which were fully exposed after due to the current state of my trousers, which ended in aggravating my situation since it attracted way more undesired attention. As I feared, my awkward behavior aroused the attention of the rest of my class: all inexperienced, underage girls that immediately gathered around me to get a glimpse of the show. The impish demoness responsible for such disaster glaring down at me with a wicked grin, not feeling guilty at all, of course, of the consequences of her wrongdoings, standing in the middle of the crowd. No other moment in my entire life could have been compared to the lapse of time when my eyes meet her skirt, stared at her Disney Princess panties, and I appreciated that I was half-naked, inside of a class filled with damn toddlers with a tent growing tent inside my pants.