Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 6

Maid Jaune 6. I'm VERY sorry for the gap. Like I said in the status update, sickness and business thing. Most of my family went abroad as well, so that's a thing. I'll be writing my next output (Mr and Mrs. Arc-Schnee) quicker. Lack of smut makes it easier.

Anyway, this chapter is a nice change of pace for me since Jaune's not acting like he hates his job. Glynda provided some refreshing content.

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A couple of days later, Jaune found himself contemplating his life choices yet again. This had become something of a daily ritual for him – wake up, train, attend classes, and wonder exactly how he'd gone from "farm boy with a dream" to "Vale's most notorious crossdressing maid-for-hire." Today, however, the existential crisis hit a bit differently.

Because today, he had an appointment with Professor Glynda Goodwitch.

Professor Goodwitch. Beacon's deputy headmistress. The woman who could reduce fourth-year students and politicans to tears with a single raised eyebrow. The same woman who had once made Cardin wet himself during a particularly brutal detention session (a story that would never die, much to Cardin's continued humiliation). There were rumors that the Vytal Tournament only took place every two years because she'd won every year back when she was a student and they wanted to give everyone else a chance.

And now she'd officially booked him.

Jaune gulped nervously as he stood outside her office, the familiar wooden door somehow looking far more intimidating than usual. He'd been here a few times before, of course, whenever his combat performance dipped below acceptable levels – which, given his falsified transcripts and complete lack of formal training, was embarrassingly often.

But he'd never stood here wearing his (custom-tailored) maid outfit. The silk felt unusually tight against his skin, the collar itchy despite its premium material. He adjusted the frilly headband, ensuring it sat perfectly on his blonde locks, and straightened the apron with shaking hands. His heels clicked against the floor as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to dispel the nervous energy coursing through him.

He felt a strange mix of nervousness and, as much as he didn't want to admit it, excitement. Aside from the weirdos – Ruby's bizarre big sister fantasy still gave him shivers – there was really only one reason women took his services. He didn't exactly make it a secret what he did, and the thought that Professor Goodwitch wanted that was... well, it was enough to make his heart (and other places) pulse. He pressed down his blouse to keep it from rising.

The woman was the archetypal Hot Teacher and Sexy Librarian rolled into one. Her fitted blouse, that pencil skirt, and those glasses that somehow made her stern glare even more intimidating. Every male student at Beacon had fantasized about her at least once; it was practically a rite of passage. Even Ren, the most composed person Jaune knew, had once mumbled her name in his sleep, which Nora did NOT take well.

Jaune took another deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. This was just another job, he reminded himself. Just because it was Professor Goodwitch didn't make it any different from his other clients. He was a professional, damn it. A professional maid-escort with a growing investment portfolio and a custom weapon upgrade that would make Ruby drool (if she were still speaking to him, which she wasn't).

He smoothed down his skirt one final time, then raised his hand and knocked on the door, "Mistress?" he called out in his practiced 'Juliette' voice, high-pitched and demure, "It's Juliette. I'm here for our appointment."

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the door. Then, Professor Goodwitch's crisp, authoritative voice responded, "Come in."

Jaune took a deep breath, steadying himself. He reached for the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open.

He stepped inside with a nervous gulp. He'd been in the office before, but doing it in this outfit was surreal. The same old bookshelves crammed with dusty academic crap and combat manuals looked way more intimidating now that he was sporting frills and stockings. Professor Goodwitch sat at her desk, back straight as a board, her blonde hair yanked back in that crazy-tight bun that seriously, how did she not get headaches? She looked up at him without so much as a raised eyebrow, like seeing a guy in a full maid getup was totally normal for a Tuesday afternoon.

Jaune readied himself. His brain had already cooked up about a dozen different scenarios, each one more crazy than the last. Maybe she had some weird authority kink? Or wanted to play strict headmistress while he was the naughty student? Brothers, he hoped it wasn't another "detention" roleplay. The last client who tried that had him writing "I will not be a bad maid" on a chalkboard for three freaking hours. His wrist had felt like it was gonna fall off. The sex felt more exhausting than anything.

But instead of any of that, Professor Goodwitch just pointed to another desk shoved in the corner of her office. It was buried under a mountain of paperwork – forms, reports, and what looked like enough detention slips to wallpaper team RWBY's dorm room, all stacked in neat but terrifying piles, "Your first task," Professor Goodwitch said, sounding like she was reading off a grocery list, "is to sort through these forms. They need to be organized by type, date, and priority level. Once that's done, I'll need you to input the data into the system."

Jaune blinked.

"I... come again?"

Professor Goodwitch adjusted her glasses, the light doing that anime villain thing where you couldn't see her eyes for a second, "Your website indicated that you were skilled in administrative duties," she said, talking to him like he was five years old, "I have paperwork that needs to be completed, and my usual assistant is out with Dust poisoning after an unfortunate incident in Professor Peach's class."

Jaune blinked again, harder this time, like maybe his eyeballs could reboot his brain, "I... yeah, I am," he found himself saying. It wasn't even a lie. Growing up with seven sisters meant he'd always gotten stuck with the boring crap nobody else wanted to do. He'd done tons of paperwork for the family wine business, keeping track of inventory and shipments while his sisters got to do all the fun stuff with actual customers.

Professor Goodwitch nodded, her face softening about half a millimeter, "Good. Get to it, then." She turned back to her own work before adding, like it was totally an afterthought, "Oh, and I'll be expecting you to serve tea occasionally, but the paperwork is the priority here."

Jaune just stood there like an idiot for a moment, his brain still buffering. This was what Professor Goodwitch had hired him for? Paperwork and pouring tea? Not... you know... the other stuff? He'd worn his best stockings and everything! The ones that cost more than his first training sword!

"Is there a problem, Mr. Arc?" Professor Goodwitch asked without looking up, her pen scratching away like she was trying to stab the paper.

"Nope! No problem at all, Professor," Jaune replied quickly, shuffling over to the desk in the corner. His skirt swished around his thighs in a way that would've had his regular clients practically drooling. Professor Goodwitch didn't even bother to glance up.

He dropped into the chair, which creaked under his weight like it was judging him. This was... weird. Super weird. Even weirder than Ruby trying to play "big sister," which was really saying something.

As he started sorting through the first stack of papers, Jaune's mind raced. Maybe this was just foreplay? Maybe Professor Goodwitch was testing him, making sure he could follow directions before moving on to the fun stuff? He'd had clients who got off on bossing him around first, making him do random crap before getting down to business. Weiss literally made him clean the hotel room once and ignored him when he pointed out that there's people whose actual job that was.

But as the minutes ticked by and Professor Goodwitch just kept working in total silence, completely ignoring the fact that there was a dude in a maid outfit sitting in her office, Jaune got more and more confused. If she'd wanted someone to file paperwork, why hire the guy known across Vale for his "special maid services"? The outfit alone seemed like major overkill for sorting detention slips.

He mindlessly flipped through a stack of incident reports, his thoughts wandering. The last time he'd been in this office, Professor Goodwitch had been chewing him out for getting his butt handed to him by Russel. She'd been tough but fair, those green eyes drilling into him behind her glasses as she'd laid out exactly how his crappy form had screwed him over. She hadn't even been that hars, not like when she tore into students with potential who slacked off; like Yang during her "can't be bothered" phases.

Yang had said once, after way too many drinks at a team hangout, that she found Professor Goodwitch's strictness "kind of hot, not gonna lie." Blake had rolled her eyes, but Jaune had caught the telltale blush that said she was totally on the same page. Even Weiss, Miss Prim and Proper herself, was busted staring at Professor Goodwitch's riding crop for way too long during class.

That same riding crop was just chilling on the edge of Professor Goodwitch's desk, like it wasn't the star of half the student body's fantasies. Jaune couldn't help glancing at it every few minutes, his collar suddenly feeling way too tight. He remembered again how Ren – calm, collected Ren – had mumbled Professor Goodwitch's name in his sleep once, which led to Nora "accidentally" dumping a full glass of ice water on his face at 3 AM. The shouting match that followed kept him and Pyrrha up for an hour, with Nora insisting that Ren was "having dirty thoughts about the enemy" while Ren stammered out excuses that got more ridiculous by the second.

The memory made Jaune smile despite his confusion. He turned his attention back to the paperwork, figuring he might as well go with it. Maybe Professor Goodwitch really did just need office help. Maybe she thought his prices were fair for the quality of his work. Maybe this wasn't just another chapter in the weird-ass story his life had become.

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Three hours passed and absolutely nothing happened besides mind-numbing paperwork. Jaune's fingers were starting to cramp from filling out form after form, and his eyes burned from squinting at tiny print detailing the many, many ways Beacon students had managed to break school property.

Seriously, who even tries to use a Boarbatusk as a mount? Nora, of course. Team RWBY had their own filing system with the damage they did. He had no idea how the school wasn't bankrupt or how they hadn't gotten expelled yet. All Professor Good said was "Ozpin" and nothing more.

Professor Goodwitch had asked for tea precisely once during the whole time. He'd obliged, following her instructions to the letter – two sugars, a splash of milk, steeped for exactly three minutes and thirty seconds. Another skill he'd perfected growing up with seven sisters: how to make the perfect cup of tea for princess-themed tea parties. Saphron had been particularly picky, insisting her tea be "royal quality" or she'd make him play the dragon instead of the knight.

"Thank you, Mr. Arc," Professor Goodwitch had said after taking a sip, nodding in satisfaction, "This is perfect. I've been dealing with everyone's paperwork all week, and it's giving me a migraine."

Jaune blinked, "Wait, aren't the other teachers supposed to do their own paperwork?"

"Yes," she replied, taking another sip, "They should." He waited for her to elaborate. She didn't. Just went right back to scribbling notes on some poor student's combat evaluation.

The silence stretched on for another twenty minutes. Jaune's back was starting to ache from hunching over the desk, and his butt had gone numb from sitting in the wooden chair for so long. He'd spent the last hour trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Was this some kind of test? A weird power play? Had someone pranked him?

He cracked his neck, stood up, and decided to test the waters, "Professor, would you, uh... like a massage? Your shoulders look tense."

Professor Goodwitch hummed thoughtfully, then set down her pen, "That would be lovely, actually."

Jaune hesitated for a split second before moving behind her chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying desperately not to think dirty thoughts (impossible) as he began kneading the stiff muscles. Even through her blouse, he could feel how tense she was. Knots upon knots, like someone had tied sailor's rope under her skin. His thoughts drifted to what was under that blouse. Pale, flawless skin that looked like it belonged to a woman half her age. He wondered what color her bra was. Purple like her cape? Black like her skirt? Did it have lace?

She sighed softly as his thumbs worked into a particularly tight spot near her neck. (Down, Jaune Junior, down!) The sound was way too close to other, less professional noises he'd heard from clients, "You have heavenly fingers, Mr. Arc," she murmured, her head lolling slightly to the side as he worked out another knot, "Perhaps you should advertise this instead of your... main services."

Jaune laughed awkwardly, his face heating up, "I, uh, you know... kind of figured that's what you called me for, actually," he admitted, "But I was wrong, obviously."

"No," Professor Goodwitch replied, her tone so matter-of-fact she might have been discussing the weather, "I am planning to sleep with you."

Jaune's fingers froze mid-knead, "Pardon?"

Professor Goodwitch didn't turn around, just rolled her shoulders slightly to prompt him to continue the massage. He did, "Nothing turns me on more than paperwork being completed before deadlines," she continued in that same casual tone, "It's a particular weakness of mine."

Jaune gulped, his mouth suddenly dry as a Vacuo summer, "I, uh, only have one stack left," he said, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty all over again.

Professor Goodwitch smiled – he couldn't see it, but he could feel it somehow. (Down, Jaune Junior, damn it! This is NOT the time!) "You'd better get to it then," she said, the barest hint of suggestion coloring her professional tone.

Jaune fucking bolted for the desk, knocking over an empty teacup in his haste. He caught it before it hit the floor, set it down with shaking hands, and dove into the final stack of papers like his life – or at least his sex life – depended on it.

He went through the paperwork like a man possessed, though he made sure to double-check everything for errors. The last thing he wanted was for the mood to be ruined because he made a typo or something. Professor Goodwitch didn't say a word, but he could see her occassionally looking up with a twinkle in those green eyes. That was the look of a woman who knew exactly how hot she was and what she was offering.

The last paper was practically slammed down into the 'Done' pile, "D-Done, mistress!" Jaune said, his voice high once more with the Juliette lilt. Sex had turned from something he craved to... well, a job. He didn't hate it, but he was often more focused on what his clients wanted more than anything else. His enjoyment was secondary, even if the sex still felt good most of the time (when weirdos like Weiss and Yang weren't making him dress up for weird pseudo-incest fantasies).

But now? Pure excitement. Because this was Glynda Goodwitch he was about to sleep with. His cock stirred underneath the skirt and he bit his lower lip. Even if she spent the whole time whipping him with her riding crop, he would've said thank you and asked for seconds.

"I'll need to check to be sure, Juliette." The sudden change in name made him feel weird. Not a bad weird, though, "In the meantime, make yourself useful."

She pushed her chair back and pointed to the (generous) space under the desk. Jaune gulped and slowly walked forward. Her casual dominance made him lightheaded. It wasn't like with Weiss, where she was clearly trying too hard to throw her (tiny) weight around. Professor Goodwitch was raw confidence. She didn't raise her voice or stomp her feet to make demands. She ordered and he obeyed. He was suddenly reminded of Saphron saying she always loved a woman who could fucking kill her.

Jaune crawled inside the space, which was big enough to hold even someone of his size. The wall behind him kept him safely out of sight, "I'm in," he called out. Professor Goodwitch hummed and slid her chair closer, her legs parting. Jaune's breath hitched.

She wasn't wearing underwear.

He'd seen dozens of, ahem, lady parts before. Weiss, Yang, Pyrrha, and dozens of his clients. Back then, he'd been downright excited...even if half the time it ended up being weird. Weiss with her weird bratty dom thing and sister fetish. Yang with her mom fetish. Pyrrha not just asking him for sex like a normal partner before carrying him out of the maid cafe over her shoulder like some desperate cavewoman. That wasn't even getting into the bizarre crap half of his other clients were into. It was like regular sex was some kind of taboo thing to not even be considered.

Jaune gulped and traced his fingers along her thick, smooth thighs, "How should I...?"

"They're stockings, Juliette. They aren't body armor."

The implicit order was clear. Gulping again, Jaune reached out - gods, her skin was warm - and tore the stockings. The sounds of tearing fabric seemed to echo across the room. The smell of her perfume (lilacs) mixed with the faint tang of sweat made him feel lightheaded. He breathed in deep, taking in the smell. Professor Goodwitch always had a flawless quality about her. Never a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her clothes and glasses always balanced. It was almost inhuman.

But right now she looked very, very human.

Jaune shuffled forward and licked his lips. This was really happening. He could feel the collective resentment and jealousy of every guy in Beacon, hundreds of collective male fantasies crying out in resentment, "Here I go, mistress." She didn't say anything, but he legs spread just an inch more in invitation. Jaune grabbed his thighs with both hands and leaned his head down.

Unlike his first time with Weiss, he didn't lick haphazardly like someone sucking on an ice cream cone. He started off slowly at first, his tongue gently sliding across her slit. He'd done this at least a dozen times before. Mistral clients in particular - usually nobility - seemed to love it. High-class ladies who only had to "lay back and think of Atlas" found a thrill in making someone work for their pleasure for a change.

He did make sure not to take clients who were currently married or didn't have "arrangements" (which was disturbingly common) with their husbands, though. Last thing he needed some some angry cuckold trying to kill him.

Professor Goodwitch let out a soft, pleased breath. It wasn't a moan, but coming from her, it might as well have been. Jaune felt a tingle of satisfaction go down his spine and he slowly picked up the pace. Not too fast - he'd made that mistake before - but slowly winding up. His eyes flicked up to the hooded clitoris. Not yet, he thought. Too soon and he'd end it too quick.

Jaune's hands tightened their hold slightly on her thighs as he continued. The sounds of the keyboard clicking above him made the whole thing seem oddly mundane. Jaune continued trying to please her. ignoring how cramped the space was and how his knees were getting kind of sore (Pyrrha was teaching him about dealing with muscle fatigue with Aura in-between their stress relief sessions). Logically, he knew being kept under the desk like some dirty little secret wasn't that different from some of the other things he griped about, but he found himself not minding.

He was just about to move up when he heard the door open.

"Ms. Schnee, please come in," Professor Goodwitch said, calm as can be. Like she didn't have one of her students going down on her underneath her desk. Jaune froze and debated pulling back when Professor Goodwitch's legs wrapped around him. The message was clear: don't go anywhere.

"Professor," Weiss' prim and proper voice greeted back, "I... assume this is about the incident in today's combat class."

"Exactly so." Professor Goodwitch pulled him even closer, his face pressed against her snatch. The intoxicating smell was overwhelming now, "You've been acting particularly aggressive during sparring matches. This isn't like you, Ms. Schnee."

"I... that is..." He could practically see Weiss shuffling from one foot to another, "I've been... frustrated in recent days, professor. My apologies."

"Would that be because of your conflict with Mr. Arc?" Her right hand reached down and patted his head. Jaune back to lick again, clumsier this time but still eager to please. If Professor Goodwitch showed any signs that she was being eaten out, then Weiss didn't notice.

"That's not-" Weiss took a deep breath, "That is, I apologize for my behavior. Juli- uh, Jaune has been difficult." Despite the situation, Jaune almost rolled his eyes. He was being difficult? Says the woman trying to get freebies from an old crush (that he didn't have anymore) because she wanted to get her rocks off making him play the naughty Faunus maid. Seriously, it was either she secretly wanted to fuck her sister or Blake. There was no in-between.

...Well, except for when she was clearly angling to have him put on a black wig with red tips. Thankfully, daddy Schnee cut her off before then.

"Difficult. I see." Professor Goodwitch gripped his head. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him (as if he needed it) that she had total control, "Would you like me to call Mr. Arc here so you two could resolve your differences?"

"No! I mean-" Weiss stuttered for an explanation, "It's nothing that deserves your personal attention, professor. I... I lost my cool. I was frustrated and lashed out. It was wrong and I won't do it again."

"Hm. Mr. Arc must've frustrated you dearly." She moved his head up, nose practically adhered to her muff. She was leading him to her clit, which was slowly coming out of its hood. Jaune moved with the training of someone who'd done this dozens of times before. Tentative licks first to ease her into it. No biting and sucking, at least not yet. Even if some suicidal part of him was tempted to bite down and make Goodwitch squeal in front of Weiss.

"Yes. It's been...difficult since our disagreement." This time he did roll his eyes. Nice way to say 'Daddy cut my allowance and now I can't afford my fetishes', "But again, it doesn't justify my poor behavior. I'll make sure to control myself better in the future."

"See that you do." Her clit was out in full now, and despite Jaune's ministrations, she sounded completely calm. Jaune began to gently suck on the nub, some part of him almost hoping Goodwitch's voice would stutter even just a bit, "I'm sure Juliette would be disappointed to hear her mistress is acting out."

The air in the room seemed to drop 10 degrees. Jaune stopped eating the professor out before a quick tug on his hair silently ordered him to keep going. At the same time, he heard Weiss gasp, "Wh-What did you say?"

"I said that Mr. Arc would be saddened if he thought he was responsible for any poor behavior," Goodwitch said. She sounded so damn confident that he almost believed her, "I thought you were getting along better ever since he stopped his rather crude flirtations. Or was I mistaken?"

"Julie- JAUNE and I have been getting along... better, yes." Weiss sounded like she wanted to be anywhere but here. He couldn't blame her, "I... is there anything else, professor? If not, I really should be going now. Train more."

"Yes, I'm sure you'd like that. Perhaps you should train with Mr. Arc in the future. I understand he's been refining his technique." He sucked particularly hard on her clit and felt a little burst of satisfaction when she let out a soft breath. Not enough for Weiss to notice, but he did.

"I'll... take that under advisement. Th-Thank you, professor." Weiss turned on her fancy high heel and left, each step echoing against the carpet.

It was only when the door finally clicked shut again that Jaune finally released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Goodwitch's grip on his hair loosened and she murmured, "Good boy." Something about those two words made him snap. He sucked and bit at her clit in a frenzy, desperate to make her lose her cool. One moan, one little muffled cry. Something.

Instead, she just gave that pleased hum like she'd seen a particularly good research paper, "Someone's eager," she murmured, laughing under her breath, "Why not take care of yourself while you're down there? I still have a little bit to go."

It wasn't an order, it wasn't even a demand, but Glynda Goodwitch had a way of making people listen. His right hand fumbled for his skirt and he reached under it and through the silk underwear (so he was thorough, sue him) to grab at his rock-hard dick. He'd been hard ever since she spread her legs, but he kept himself from getting handsy by remembering his work. The client's needs came first, even if he (rightfully) complained when his friends got him into some weird shit.

His jerking was clumsy, which wasn't helped by his position and the fact that he was still focused on eating her out. While his hand jerked across his length with a shaky fist, his mouth and tongue were practically glued to Goodwitch's slit. Her cunt was wet not just from his own fluids but from her obvious arousal, even though she kept typing up above like she didn't even notice. It was a challenge now. He wanted her to slip just once, gods damn it.

Up and down his hand went, his cock slick with his sweat and pre. He closed his eyes and imagined Weiss standing in front of Goodwitch's table again. The thought of her being there while he was eating out the deputy headmistress made his skin tingle in ways he couldn't explain. So far, he'd avoided any exhibitionist fantasies. Some of his clients definitely wanted it (and were willing to pay quadruple digits), but the thought of being caught ass-naked in a park bush kept him from accepting.

But now, the thought of being caught - even pushing Goodwitch to slip and make it obvious to Weiss - made his gut burn with want.

"I must say, while your combat skills are still a work in progress, your other talents are... satisfactory." The brief pause sent a pleasurable tingle down his spine. She still soundeded calm as can be, but he noticed how her fingers stopped typing for ten seconds. Ten seconds of her trying to balance herself, "Perhaps I should make this a repeat arrangement. I just finished double checking your paperwork. Some minor typos and mistakes, but easily rectified in minutes."

Jaune felt a burst of irritation. Was she seriously talking about paperwork right now? This was-

"Of course, if you do better next time, I could... reward you. Excellent work deserves proper compensation, after all."

Paperwork? Amazing. Love it. Already training to do better.

"I'm close, Juliette." Brothers, he didn't know whether to be annoyed or turned on with how casual she sounded. She'd stopped typing now, leaning back on the chair with a soft, satisfied sigh. He chanced a look up. Her face was dotted with the slightest bits of sweat and her eyes were closed. The most amazing thing was the fact that her glasses were askew. To anyone else, that might've looked normal, but for Glynda Goodwitch? It was about as normal as seeing Weiss in sweatpants. It just didn't happen.

She was rattled.

His own jerking had reached a fever pitch now. Sweat dripped down his brow as he forced himself to focus on both pleasing his mistress and bring himself to his own climax. The head of his cock was practically dripping with seed now as he imagined inserting something else besides his tongue up her quim.

She came when he gently bit down on her clit. There was no graphic moan or dramatic back arching. She let out a soft breath and gripped the armrests with (almost) controlled tightness as she released. The slighty tangy taste of her cum wasn't anything different from all the others he'd tasted before, but knowing that it was coming from the most desired woman on campus - even over Weiss, Yang, and Pyrrha - made it feel sweeter somehow.

He came himself only seconds later. He was too in the moment to even care that his semen shot out like a geyser and pelted Glynda's thighs or fell down to the floor. He froze, almost expecting to get telekinetically launched out the window. When he looked up, he found his mistress looking down at him with half-lidded eyes and an amused... well, it wasn't exactly a smile, but it was close enough. It was a look most guys in Beacon would literally kill for.

Jaune licked his cum-soaked lips and finally managed to find his voice, "Was... Was that satisyfing for you, mistress?"

"Yes, Juliette, it was." She pushed her chair back, finally giving him space to stand. Jaune winced at the slight feeling of stiffness on his limbs and wiped the rest of the cum off his face. His dick was already softening, but the sight in front of him made it impossible for it deflate completely. Gods, he wanted to fuck her so bad, but he reminded himself of his place here. He was the maid, he did whatever his client wanted. He couldn't push, no matter how much he wanted to.

And he really, really wanted to...

Jaune wiped his mouth one more time, trying to play it cool despite the fact that his heart was still hammering like Nora after too much caffeine. He glanced up at Professor Goodwitch, who was already straightening her skirt and fixing her glasses like nothing had happened. The woman had just been eaten out under her desk while having a casual conversation with Weiss, and she looked like she'd simply finished grading papers.

Meanwhile, Jaune felt like he'd just run a marathon in heels. Which, technically, he kind of had, "So, uh..." he started, his voice still a bit hoarse, "Did you want to... do more?" His eyes drifted hopefully toward the riding crop still sitting on her desk. He'd been fantasizing about that thing for months, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to find out what Professor Goodwitch could do with it besides terrifying students into proper combat stances.

Professor Goodwitch followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow, "I'm quite satisfied for now, thank you," she said, adjusting her blouse, "Though I wouldn't say no to a foot massage. All this paperwork has me rather tense."

Jaune's face lit up. Not exactly what he'd been hoping for, but hey, touching Professor Goodwitch in any capacity was still a win in his book, "Absolutely! I mean, yes, mistress. Whatever you need."

She settled back into her chair, extending one stockinged leg toward him. The torn fabric from earlier hung in tatters, but somehow that just made the whole thing hotter. Jaune knelt down and carefully took her foot in his hands, working his thumbs into the arch. All those years of rubbing his sisters' feet after their shopping marathons were finally paying off in the weirdest way possible. A part of him hated how he was so eager to please - simp... - but an even bigger part told it to shut the fuck up.

"You know," Professor Goodwitch said casually as he worked, "Your... side job is cutting into your training time with Ms. Nikos."

Jaune's hands faltered slightly, "I, uh, try to balance things-"

"You need all the help you can get, considering your fake transcripts."

Jaune froze completely, his blood turning to ice in his veins. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit fuck damn hell-

Professor Goodwitch must have felt him tense up because she chuckled softly, "Relax, Juliette. At this point, that's the least illegal thing about you." She gestured vaguely between them, "Or did you think the deputy headmistress having 'relations' with a student was perfectly normal?"

Jaune's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. His brain had officially short-circuited. She knew? About the transcripts? And she was cool with it? "I- you- we-" he stammered, his usual eloquence completely shot to hell.

"Before you give yourself an aneurysm," Professor Goodwitch interrupted, "I have a proposition for you." She switched feet, placing her other one in his still-trembling hands, "I'd like to offer you additional combat training. Private sessions, on my own time."

Jaune blinked rapidly, trying to process this development, "You... want to train me? Even though I'm a fraud who just had his face between your-"

"Especially because of those things," she said matter-of-factly, "You clearly have motivation to improve, and I have... personal reasons for wanting to ensure you succeed. Convenience reasons."

"But why?" Jaune asked, genuinely confused, "I mean, I'm grateful, obviously, but-"

"Because I want to," Professor Goodwitch cut him off, "Does there need to be another reason?"

Jaune stared at her for a moment, then broke into the biggest grin he'd had all week, "Yes! Hell yes. I mean, yes please, Professor. I'd love that."

She nodded approvingly, "Good. We'll start next week. And Mr. Arc?" She leaned forward slightly, her green eyes boring into his, "This arrangement stays between us."

"Of course," Jaune nodded frantically, "Secret. Got it. My lips are sealed."

"They'd better be," she said with the faintest hint of a smirk, "Now, finish with my feet. I have a faculty meeting in an hour."

Almost an hour later, Jaune stumbled back toward his dorm room looking absolutely fucked stupid. His maid outfit was completely askew - the headband hanging off one ear, his skirt twisted around his waist, stockings laddered beyond repair, and his apron had somehow gotten tangled with his hair extensions. He probably looked like he'd been through a blender, which honestly wasn't that far from the truth.

His brain was still trying to process everything that had happened. Professor Goodwitch knew about his transcripts and didn't care. She'd basically admitted to committing a crime by sleeping with him and also didn't care. And somehow, out of all that insanity, he'd ended up with a personal combat instructor who happened to be one of the most skilled Huntresses in Vale. Pyrrha was impressive, best partner ever, 10 out of 10, but Professor Goodwitch was... Professor Goodwitch.

His life was fucking weird.

He pushed open the door to Team JNPR's dorm, still in a daze. Ren was at his desk reading, Nora was upside down on her bed tossing pancake bits at the ceiling (and completely missing the trash can), and Pyrrha was sitting on her bed, polishing Miló with maybe a little more force than necessary.

All three of them looked up when he entered. Pyrrha's smile seemed particularly forced, her green eyes scanning his disheveled appearance with an expression that was hard to read. She seemed stressed, but he was too tired for their daily five stress relief sessions. Maybe next time, "So," Pyrrha said, her voice bright and cheerful in an odd way he couldn't place "How was your appointment, Jaune? Who was your client today?"

Jaune flopped down on his bed, not even bothering to change out of the maid outfit, "Professor Goodwitch," he said, his voice slightly muffled by his pillow.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Ren, without looking up from his book, said in his usual deadpan tone, "Nice."

"REN!" Nora shrieked, immediately rolling off her bed and tackling her partner, "You're supposed to be PURE! INNOCENT! How do you even know what that means?!"

"I have eyes, Nora," Ren replied calmly, even as she tried to put him in a headlock, "And I'm not blind to what Jaune does for work."

"That's not the point!" Nora wailed, now attempting to cover Ren's ears with her hands while he continued reading like all was right with the world, "You're not supposed to appreciate other people's sexy times! What about OUR sexy times?!"

"We don't have sexy times, Nora."

"EXACTLY! That's the problem!"

Jaune tuned them out and went to sleep. After the day he had, he deserved it.

[line break]

No penetration for Glynda... yet. Glynda being one of the clients Jaune is super into, plus her not being a stupid 19-20 something, means she doesn't blow her load early. It also means she can show up for a sequel chapter where that riding crop gets used.

Who do you guys want next? Last time Glynda was voted so I put her in. Cinder? Winter? Someone else?