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Persona 5 - Cognition	By : AnotherDamnWriter Category: +S through Z > Shin Megami Tensei: Persona (all) > Shin Megami Tensei: Persona (all) Views: 58238 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Persona 5 nor make any money from this piece, Persona belongs to Atlus and SEGA

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
“How many times do I have to repeat myself? No, Ryuji; a ‘femme fatale’ is not a type of dessert.”
Sadayo Kawakami sighed as she failed to not sound condescending to her blond student in the middle of class, but Ryuji made it difficult, especially with his shirt being a clear violation of the Shujin Academy dress code. He wasn’t a dumb kid per se, nor was he particularly bright, it was just his own inattention and laziness that usually proved to be his undoing on her tests. The teacher sighed and adjusted her dark brown hair, not that it did any good at managing her messy curls that went down to her chin. Her dark brown eyes brought about a conflicting image: They carried the seriousness of someone worthy of their profession as a vanguard for the young, but they also carried a remnant of that same youthfulness that she saw in her students as they gossiped or did… Whatever kids do these days.
The woman took a chance to fix up her clothes as Ryuji argued with a few of his snickering colleagues nearby. She swept off some dust that had gathered on to her striped yellow sweater, making sure to adjust her denim skirt so that they stay under her knee level, as they should be; her white heels helped elevate her a little bit, although she still hovered around the same height as her female students. Shaking her head, she continued.
“A femme fatale is a character archetype, has anyone ever heard of the french novella ‘Carmen’ by the author Prosper Mérimée? It’s about a gypsy woman of the same name who drags a man into a life of crime with her good looks and subterfuge. The man, José, abandons his job and family, not to mention robs and kills for her. In the end, she says she is leaving him for a young bullfighter named Lucas. José, blind with rage, kills Carmen who proclaims: “Carmen will always be free. Isn’t it a bit romantic, in its own way?” Kawakami scratched her head, realizing she got a bit lost in the moment. “Well, there are probably better examples of femme fatales who don’t die in the end, but you guys understand what I’m saying…”
From the corner of her eye, the teacher noticed the transfer student looking out the window. Akira Kurusu played with her hair which rested went down roughly beneath her shoulder-level, seemingly more interested in curling her black locks than in Kawakami’s lecture. The sunlight from outside reflected off her glasses, exalting the girl’s grey eyes. “Kurusu!” The woman tried to catch her student’s attention, which seemed to half work: Akira shot at her a side glance, just enough to acknowledge her, but not enough to seem like she cared about her. “Can you tell the class what is a femme fatale?”
The girl stopped playing with her hair and straightened her back, taking the teacher’s question as a challenge. “In many forms of media, it’s a woman who uses her charm and looks to manipulate weak men into doing her bidding. Another example would be Jane Palmer from the American film noir ‘Too Late for Tears’, originally released in 1949.” Akira let slip a sly smile as she rested her cheek on her palm, staring into her teacher’s eyes. “Although I suppose there is nothing stopping a femme fatale from manipulating another woman, is there?”
Kawakami was so surprised by the in-depth answer of the supposed troublemaker that she paid no attention to its odd amendment. “Absolutely correct, Kurusu! Well done!” She said with a cute little clap. “This will be on your test, everyone! Be sure to study up!” The bell rang over the sounds of the groaning students, signifying the end of the current period. “Now then, who’s on duty today? Mishima?”
From the back of the class, a small blue haired boy stood up, his face was condecorated in bandages alongside other bruises. She had already pressed him about this but he explained them away as small injuries suffered during volleyball practice, Kawakami had no choice but to believe he merely had a tough training regimen as many other students seemed to get hurt during practice. “Everyone…” His voice trembled and reeked of teenage shyness. “Please… Stand up…”
…
A frantic morning of work quickly became the afternoon, and the afternoon quickly brought about the sunset, coloring the skies above Shujin with a warm shade of orange. Kawakami found herself on the third floor women’s bathroom, finally getting a chance to relax from her duties as the 2B class Homeroom teacher. The woman adjusted her skirt and sweater as she got up from the toilet, making sure to close it behind her, she began to leave the stall, until…
SLAM
The brute opening of the restroom door made Kawakami jump in place, she was tempted to open the door as to see what the commotion was all about, but the confrontational dialogue made her second-guess her decision.
“I-I’m sorry! I already said it was an accident!” Kawakami recognized the voice as the blue haired kid’s, Mishima. The teacher climbed up on the toilet, as to avoid having her feet be seen from under the door; she cursed herself for her cowardice, the woman never found it in her to get involved in a dispute. She could hear heavy steps, followed by the dragging of feet, it seemed like he was being tugged into the woman’s restroom.
“Shut up.” Another voice she recognized from her class, the unmistakable tone of the troublemaker transfer student: Akira Kurusu. The girl dragged him all the way to the wall in the opposite side of the doorway, the stall door that stood slightly agape gave Kawakami a front row seat to the event, with the help of the sink’s mirror.
“You think I didn’t notice?” Akira pushed the boy into the wall, keeping him still with a forearm pressed against his neck. “You really think I didn’t notice you running those virgin eyes of your up and down my thighs? Trying to catch a glimpse of my ass?” The eyebrows behind her glasses formed a frown and she seemed to be trying to glare a hole through the boy’s skull, yet her voice carried an almost seductive tone, as if trying to make the student recall his fantasies.
“I-I-I…!” The boy stuttered. Mishima didn’t seem to resist, be it because of his weak muscles or weak will. “I-It’s not like that-!”
“I-I-I…” The taller girl mocked him. “Can’t you defend yourself, you pussy?” Akira intensified the pressure on her arm, pressing him uncomfortably against the wall. She approached her face to Mishima’s, close enough so that she could feel his warm breath. The transfer student stared into his panicked eyes for a good long time, watching carefully for his next move. His next move seemed to be nothing, all Mishima could do was watch in terror as she imposed her will over him. Her look of anger turned into one of annoyance, the girl rolled her eyes and got close to his ear. “Come on, aren’t you gonna do something? We are all alone.” She whispered, capping off her tease with a light nibble on his ear, unaware of the teacher’s presence.
“W-What?” His mind drew a blank, never in a million years had Mishima expected this to happen.
“Ugh. C’mere.” Akira let go of Mishima’s throat and leaned in quickly for a kiss while forcefully holding his shoulders, but the boy’s natural reactions dodged it by turning his head. The girl looked surprised by this, her mouth now on the side of his neck. “Stop. Resisting.” She ordered, using this opportunity to circle the boy’s neck with licks and kisses and making her way back to his mouth, which dodged her attack once again. “I’m doing you a favor, you ungrateful shit.” Her phrase was brutish, but her tone of voice made her seem like she was enjoying this somewhat, as if she savored the cat-and-mouse chase. Tired of waiting, Akira kept his head still by holding his chin with one hand and finally met his lips with hers, her tongue broke through his defenses and went to town inside his mouth.
The boy’s eyes bugged out as his first virginity was forcefully taken from him, but he dared not resist as the girl’s thigh pressed against his crotch. He stared blankly at the exit door as his mouth was violated by the transfer student, his mind conflicted between terror and pleasure. Soon, the girl’s wild assault turned into a more refined technique as she calmed down, her tongue swirled and danced around Mishima’s, taking the opportunity to also pull and suck at it. She pulled away creating sticky strands of saliva, making him believe she was finally ending his torture, but that turned out to be a false flag as she was merely catching her breath for another round.
This time she was more forceful. Her hands groped around Mishima’s body, caressing his light chest and small butt, her thigh also teasingly rubbed his crotch, the boy made no attempts to hide his full erection. Finally, thankfully , the girl finished by biting his lower lip and marked her territory. She locked eyes with the boy, both of them breathing heavily, a sly smile came across her face, displaying her obvious intentions. Akira’s hand travelled slowly down to his belt which was unbuckled with ease, she forcefully dragged down the boy’s loose pants alongside his tighty whities with one hand, letting the boy’s cock escape from its prison.
“Oh my.” She said, her voice carrying a half-teasing, half-surprised tone. “You’re packing more than what I expected, Mishima.” One hand held him close to the wall at all times, while the other tentatively played around with his dick, it really was more than what she was prepared for: Not gigantic, but big enough so that her small-dick related teases she had prepared wouldn’t work. “...Shame you’re never using this on anything but an onahole, you pathetic virgin.” Regaining control of the situation, Akira went back to work on the shy kid’s shaft, teasing it with her fingers only, which elicited a grunt from the boy.
“A-Akira…” Mishima closed his eyes, paralyzed in fear. “Please stop...”
“You’re so hard, though!” The girl’s nimble fingers went down to his balls, lightly caressing them. “Your little guy is sending me mixed signals here…” His dick throbbed and throbbed as it wished for nothing more than release from the girl’s sweet torture. “It’s not as big as Ryuji’s, mind you, but someone like you could never hope to compete. He’s a real man, unlike you.”
She finally grabbed a hold of his shaft, taking care not to hurt him, a defective toy would be no fun, after all. “Even though I’m throwing myself at you, you’re just standing there.” She continued as she lightly stroke Mishima’s cock. “One time Ryuji was so pissed off at Kamoshida, he dragged me by the hair to a corner on the roof and just fucked my ass raw.” The girl’s strokes got faster. There was no grace, no technique in her motions: This was about her pleasure, not his. “Another time, he dragged me into an alleyway and shoved his giant prick down my throat...” The girl rubs intensified as she got lost in her thoughts, her slumped glasses revealed her lustful eyes as her own breathing escalated. “But you understand how I felt, don’t you?” She continued, her eyes rose up to Mishima, although he was not reciprocating. “Being someone else’s stress toy is liberating, in its own way. Although I can dish it out as much as I can take it, unlike you. Remember our dear student council president? She has a hot sister...” Akira got closer, her mouth millimeters away from Mishima’s ear. “I fucking destroyed her. Broke her down into tears with just my hands.”
“W-Why…” He stuttered, tears began to form. “Why are you doing this to me…?”
“Ha…” An impish smile formed into the girl’s impeccable face. “Why not?” The girl’s stroke reached a relentless momentum, a slew of pre-cum oozed from the head Mishima’s dick, which had been completely disregarded throughout his abuse, neglecting him from receiving too much pleasure. “Are you gonna cum, huh?” She teased. “Are you gonna cum from being raped by a girl, sissy?” She nibbled and licked his earlobe, her wet tongue producing as many splooshing noises as the dick in her hand. “Haha… Cum for me. Cum for me!”
“Aah! Ack!” With a guttural scream, Mishima blew his load all over the squared bathroom floor, strings upon strings of sticky liquid poured out of his dick, filling the room with the choking smell of fresh spunk.
“Hahaha! There we go!” Akira looked down at her handiwork, no pun intended, some of it smeared the girl’s delicate hands, strands of jizz dropped down to the floor. “Imagine… If you were actually fucking me I would have gotten pregnant for sure.” She raised her filthy hand up to her eye level, examining it closely with pride until she noticed the boy staring at her, still instilled with fear in his eyes. “What are you looking at? Get out of here before I make you lick it off the ground, pig.”
“Aah! R-Right away ma’am!” His torture session was finally over. Mishima ran for the door, holding up his pants all the way out.
“Eh, you forgot your-”
SLAM
“...belt.” Akira finished. She took her alone time to smell her dirty hand. “Hum~.” It sent a shiver down her spine, something about that disgusting smell of man-meat juice always made her feel something primal within. The girl licked the tip of her index finger, taking time to appreciate the salty taste. She continued for every finger, making exaggerated sucking noises and…
Staring straight at Kawakami through the mirror.
“Enjoyed the show, Miss. Kawakami?”
The teacher froze, the eyes of both women locked as Akira continued to taste Mishima’s seed. “Watching such a personal moment unsolicited is a very serious thing, you know. What would principal Kobayakawa say?” More licks, more bedroom eyes. “Oh well, the fatass would probably fuck you or something, just like poor Makoto...”
Kawakami wanted to say something, anything, but there was no defense for her actions either. She was too afraid, too damn cowardly to stop the student’s abuse and instead sat still and watched instead.
“If you want more, my house’s gonna be empty this friday night.” Finishing slopping up the cum in her hand, Akira blew a kiss to the mirror. “You know where I live.”
The student left with a confident swagger of her hips, closing the door behind her and leaving the teacher in the darkness.
…
Friday night, rainy. Kawakami made her way through the thick fog under her trusty umbrella, only the faint yellow light of the lampposts guided her from street to street. She didn’t even have time to switch out of her sweater and skirt, having needed to stay at work late that afternoon. Countless thoughts swirled through her head, something about her student’s aura attracted her, what was she even going to do once she arrived? The teacher hadn’t the faintest idea. Nevertheless, she continued exploring the heart of Tokyo, making her way from street corner to street corner, trying to find her destination through narrow alleyways and wide streets.
Finally, on the other side of the local bath, she found it: Leblanc Café. It’s only indicator was a small sign overhead, illuminated by an even smaller light. “CLOSED.” Said the sign on the door, and the dark interior reflected that message.
“No one’s home…” Thought Kawakami. Perhaps it was for the best. The woman shouldn’t have even entertained the thought of confronting the student one-on-one, but she found herself too embarrassed to speak of what had happened with Principal Kobayakawa. Plus, the last thing any Shujin employee wanted was their school being connected to more weird sexual incidents. She had hoped to solve the problem privately but it seemed-
The lights inside turned on. There was Akira coming down the stairs, had she been watching from a higher floor? The girl had stopped at the feet of the stairway, taking a moment to give the teacher a sly smile through the glass door. She was still dressed in the Shujin Academy uniform, minus the blazer and overalls, her swaying breasts seemed to indicate a lack of bra as well.
With slow, deliberate steps the girl made her way to the front door, the rhythmic tapping of the wood floor barely noticeable under the heavy rain. “ I can still leave. ” Thought the teacher, but something abstract attracted her to this place. Was it her professional need to discipline the girl? Or was it her bountiful charm and confidence? Her invitation earlier that week seemed more like an order than a proposition, now that she thought about it…
Kawakami came back to reality from a click on the door’s lock. The student’s premeditated hand motions slowly made their way towards the door handle, resting on it for a bit. Akira looked at Kawakami and raised her eyebrows, daring her to stay. The teacher, to her credit, continued unmoving, although if that was because of courage or fear she could not tell.
Another click, the door opened with a loud squeak, the light from inside the establishment flooded onto the pavement outside. Moving out of the doorway, Akira welcomed the teacher with a hand gesture, no words, no signals, just that same damn smile on her face. “...Thank you, Kurusu.” The teacher closed her umbrella and made her way inside the shop.
The café had an outdated, old-timey feel to it, certain people would call it ‘retro’. The indistinguishably strong smell of coffee beans filled the air and the shelves behind the counter on her right, the row of tables on her left was illuminated by a matching row of lamps overhead, their seemingly low quality served well to the shop’s atmosphere, although if that was on purpose is another question. Collecting herself, Kawakami tried her best to sound as professional as possible, or at least as professional as she could be when breaking her clear moral code and visiting a student alone after-hours. “Don’t get me wrong.” The older woman said as she looked around. “I’m here to speak to you privately about your recent behavior-”
Slam, click.
Kawakami yelped as her breasts were groped from behind, she felt the warm sensation of the girl’s tongue on her neck. “W-What the…!” She began to stammer out before her mouth was covered by the student’s hand.
“Shush.” Was Akira’s first word. The girl went to work quickly as she violently grabbed hold of one of her teacher’s modest tits and her tongue traveled across the side of her throat. Kawakami struggled, trying her best to fight her assaulter, but the girl was strong, deceptively strong. The more she fought, the tighter Akira’s hold was. Her attack was the very opposite of her cool and collected demeanor she had shown before, these movements were primal, almost animalistic, like years of pent up aggression were being released on her at this very moment. “I was almost afraid you wouldn’t show up.” Said the girl, her tiny nose explored Kawakami’s locks, smelling the sweetness of her prey. “You saw what I did to that little faggot and you just had to get a taste, didn’t you?”
The woman tried to scream through her bondage but the sound was pitiful, the pain of the student’s hold exacerbated. Her screams for help turned into wails of pain when Akira bit down on her neck, leaving behind a noticeable mark and wet strands of saliva.
“If you don’t stop screaming, I’ll hurt you more.” Akira threatened. To attest this her hand made its way beneath the woman’s sweater, pulling down her bra and forcefully pinching her teacher’s nipple. A sharp mixture of pain and the inevitable pleasure shocked through Kawakami’s spine, the more she struggled the more pressure was applied on her pleasure center, subconsciously conditioning her into settling down. “Good girl… Good girl…” What the hell was she, a pet? “Let me remind you that you will be the one in trouble if someone finds out you came here alone.” She threatened. With the teacher’s natural instincts being put to rest, so did the student’s: Her aggressive behavior was replaced by her more methodical side as her finger circled around her superior’s nipple, the only response from the teacher this time was of dirty pleasure. Once again, Kawakami was being conditioned into associating compliance with satisfaction, while resistance brought about pain. “I’m going to let go of your mouth now, you know what will happen if you scream.” Akira could feel the tears pouring down onto her hand, but still, Kawakami complied with a slight nod of her head. As promised, the girl lowered down her other hand from the woman’s mouth, choosing instead to concentrate on her nether regions.
Kawakami gasped and sobbed. There was her damn cowardice taking hold of her again, she was too weak to help Mishima and now she isn’t even able to help herself. Something similar to words tried to form on the back of her throat, but the only sounds that came out were those of grunting and… moaning.
“Aw, what happened?” The girl said on a mocking tone, similar to the one she had used on the boy earlier. “Everyone’s so passive nowadays, a little threat and they stop resisting...” Akira’s hands kept playing with her teacher’s private areas like those of a doll, a hand caressed her breast while another dug under her skirt, fingers ran across her white panties. Kawakami tensed up every time her nimble finger glided over her sensitive clit.
“That’s quite enough!” With a shout and a sudden burst of energy Kawakami shook free of Akira’s hold, stunning the younger girl. The teacher attempted to use this opening to run for the door, but a tight grab on her wrist whipped her back into a deep kiss. Akira’s hand held the woman’s head steady as her tongue invaded Kawakami’s mouth, the other one travelled down to her bottom, roughly groping it and pushing them together.
“No biting.” Akira warned as she pulled away from their connection, deciding to instead focus on her teacher’s neck. “You keep pretending you’re resisting but did you honestly expect anything else when you came in? I was pretty explicit in my invitation, wasn’t I?” She said. The teacher moaned in her restraints as Akira’s hand made its way beneath her panties, circling her labia. “You’re a naughty teacher.”
“I-I’m not-” Her protest was interrupted by a push to the ground. Akira quickly followed suit, falling on top and facing the woman eye to eye. Their warm breaths filled the air as Akira forcefully twisted their tongues together.
“I already told you, shush.” Akira grinned. Her wet kisses went down from her face to her neck and all the way down to her legs. “About time we took these off.” She said as she removed the woman’s skirt, revealing her delicious looking thighs. Kawakami was well past the point of resistance now, why? She was not quite sure. “I’ve been waiting for this…” Her predator said as she slowly, tortuously, removed her teacher’s white panties. “Aha… So moist...” Akira panted, her face seemed to radiate a new expression other than arrogance, her eyes went wide from a weird mixture of happiness and lust, like a thief looking at her treasure.
Akira’s wet tongue made sparse contacts with the teacher’s sex, choosing to tease her instead of assaulting her. Endless circular motions elicited moans from the fallen teacher, her hands grabbed hold of whatever she could find. Every once in awhile Akira would rub the teacher’s clit, but not nearly enough as the woman would want, if she desired something she would have to beg for it. “A-Akira… Please…”
“Hmm?” The girl wondered, too busy to give a proper response.
“P-Please! I get it! Just stop teasing and fuck me!” The teacher begged.
“Oh? I thought you-”
“Why the fuck would I have come here if not for that?!” She screamed, her eyes watered from the desperation.
“You’re my teacher!” Akira said in a mocking tone. “I could never possibly- Ack!” The student was interrupted by a surprise move from Kawakami: Her legs wrapped around the girl’s head, forcing her to receive a faceful of cunt. The teacher’s hand also went down to the girl’s hair, keeping her in place. Her dominance was a surprise, to be sure, but Kurusu always fancied herself a malleable person. Following the shift in power the girl intensified her movement, bringing her middle and ring fingers into the equation, they went to work on the teacher’s folds while her tongue assaulted her clit exclusively.
“That’s it!” Kawakami proclaimed. “I-I haven’t felt like this for a long time!” She admitted. Thinking back, her resolve was probably set when she saw Akira abusing Mishima, her shifts as a teacher and her part-time job made it impossible to feel this kind of pleasure. She would find herself lonely masturbating to random videos on the internet late at night, such intense love making was cathartic after all those years.
“This one’s a keeper.” Thought Akira as her movements got stronger and stronger.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Kawakami’s moans were a bit too loud for the student’s taste, but she would be tasting something else soon enough. Akira recognized the end was coming near once her teacher’s knees started trembling, streams of woman juice poured out of the teacher’s cunt and Akira made sure to slurp as much as she could, it tasted better than Mishima’s, at least.
Quickly, the student made her way up to her teacher, bringing her in for another deep kiss and making her taste her own orgasm. Wet, sticky liquid dripped from Akira’s mouth as their lips drifted apart. Heavy breathing and the rain outside were the only sounds left in the café, without another word, they embraced on the cold floor.
“You’re… pant ... sleeping here tonight.” Akira said, finding herself out of breath.
“Just tonight?”
- 3
- 4
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Persona 5 - Cognition