School desks were never built to be slept in. Somehow,that never stopped people. Particularly a teenage boy who'd spent the past night swinging around Manhattan in red and blue underpants.
"-ker! Parker! Wake up, Mr. Parker!"
Peter Parker woke with a start, which wasn't hard when you woke up to the sight of a metal, clawed tentacle. The tentacle rapped on the desk and whirred in disapproval, staring Peter down with its glowing green "eye". From the back of the high school classroom, Peter could hear snickering and and a whoop of "Parker does it again!"
Peter sat there transfixed, as if someone had poured wet cement in his chair. Something was very, very wrong here. He just couldn't think of what it was.
"That is more than enough, Mr. Thompson," said the teacher. The tentacle retreated as she approached Peter's desk. She wore sleek spectacles and a form-fitting labcoat. She was a petite, short-haired woman, but commanded respect through her sheer presence. That and the foursome of concrete-smashing metal arms. "Mr. Parker."
"D-Dr. Octavia!" Peter found himself saying. "I'm sorry, I had a-"
"Genius is no excuse for sloth, Mr. Parker," the doctor cut in. "I will not tolerate poor performance in my classroom, no matter who does it. Now, if you would be so kind as to answer my question: what is the alternative name for the value of six point oh two times ten to the twenty-third power?"
"Ava-Avogadro's number," said Peter. Easy one to remember. It reminded him of avocados. Much easier question to answer than why Doc Ock was teaching his high school chemistry.
"Congratulations, Mr. Parker. You are performing within my minimum expectations. See that you don't do it again." She focused her attention to the rest of the class. "Now, Avogadro's number, also known as a mole, serves as a-"
Peter tuned out the lecture so he could ask himself the Big Question: didn't I punch this person in the face a few times? He had memories - vague,far-off memories - of an angry little man with a bowlcut. Now it seemed that he'd gained an extra X chromosome and a certain sense of citizenship. His classmates appeared to be taking their supervillainous teacher in stride. They seemed far more interested in the usual teenage topics: secret text-messaging and counting the seconds till class was dismissed. Why weren't they reacting? Why wasn't he reacting? Why wasn't he leaping into action right this
DON'T THINK ABOUT IT
And Peter Parker, the Amazing Spider-Man, brushed off his worries in a heartbeat. Doc Ock had always been a respected member of Midtown's faculty, among other things. There was nothing to worry about. The idea that he should worry was just too dumb to consider.
The school bell rang. There was a rush of backpacks and ratty jeans as the students stampeded out the door towards their weekend. Doc Ock's metal arms contracted to let the students pass. "Remember to read the next two chapters!" Doc Ock called out. "Mr. Parker! A word."
Peter got up from his desk. His backpack lay forgotten by his chair. Even with his memories on the fritz, he had a fair idea of what was coming. "What's up, Doc? Need some help grading papers? I gotta warn you, I don't come cheap."
Slowly, the doctor smiled. It reminded Peter of a sunrise after a long, cold winter. "Oh, you."
One of the arms quietly shut and locked the classroom door. The doctor slowly began to undress, unbuttoning her labcoat to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. As usual. Peter smirked in remembrance.
"I meant what I said, however," Doc Ock said as she worked her buttons. "As your devoted slave, I couldn't possibly say how the great Spider-Man should spend his nights. But as your teacher, it is my sacred duty to see that you are constantly performing at your full potential. How do you put it? 'With great power comes great responsibility.' I have the power to shape your future for the better." Her smile grew wider. "And Doctor Oma Octavia does not shirk her responsibilities."
"I gotcha," said Peter, feeling his pants growing tight. "Anything else I should know?"
"Not much. But a quick reminder: we have a meeting with the rest of the Seraglio Six tonight at the Oscorp building at seven." She chuckled. "We wanted to have it at six - our little joke - but there was a scheduling problem."
Doctor Octavia finally finished unbuttoning, revealing her plump breasts and shaved sex. She draped herself over her desk. "Now, about your ongoing education..." The metal arms made "come hither" gestures. "Care for some tutoring?"