Nerd! Genesis of a Master
Copyright© 2026 by Naughty Bard
Chapter 5: The Glow Up
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 5: The Glow Up - Damian Flanagan is the school's invisible nerd, a "toothpick" surviving Dresden High through tactical invisibility. But queen bee Pamela Van Buren discovers his secret: Damian is hiding a "masterpiece" of raw masculinity between his legs that puts every athlete to shame. In a dark parking lot, the social order flips as the queen claims the prize no one else noticed.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Teenagers Consensual Mind Control Slavery Heterosexual Fiction School Sports Cheating Sharing DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Rough White Male White Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie First Facial Oral Sex Petting Spitting Foot Fetish Public Sex Size Teacher/Student Geeks Nudism Revenge Transformation
“ ... about the adventures of Holden Caulfield, a 16-year-old boy with behavioral issues who decides to...”
Sally Cook was beyond confused. She was supposed to be taking notes on J.D. Salinger, but instead, she was just staring at the guy at the front of the room, giving a fire presentation, as per usual. It was Flanagan. At least, she was pretty sure it was. No one ever really used his actual name; he was just “the Nerd.” It was a title that had fit him like a glove since frigging kindergarten—or at least it did until like, forty-eight hours ago.
She kept squinting at him, trying to find the glitch. Yeah, it was definitely him, but if anyone had told her last week that she’d be low-key thirsting over the class dork, she would’ve blocked them on everything.
The old Flanagan? No shot. Zero. Are you kidding? But this 2.0 version standing at the podium was actually ... kind of a problem. His hair used to be this shapeless, perpetually greasy mop, but now it was tight on the sides with the top styled perfectly in that “I didn’t try too hard” way, with a few strands falling over his forehead. And his eyes—was it even legal for them to be that color? She’d literally never noticed them behind those thick, crusty glasses.
Then there was the rest of the fit. The sweater, the jeans, the shoes—it was giving “Dark Academia” main character energy. He looked like he’d just walked off a Pinterest board. Sally wondered if he’d been on one of those extreme makeover shows over the weekend. It was the only logical explanation; either that or he’d been replaced by an undercover alien who specialized in rizz.
She let out a tiny, involuntary sigh, getting lost in those cobalt eyes. For a split second, Damian turned toward her, almost like he’d read her mind. He flashed her a slow, charming smile as he made a brilliant point about the book’s climax. Jesus. The dimples, the perfect teeth—it was too much. He was actually cute. Like, dangerously cute.
She suddenly snapped out of it, looking away with a surge of indignation. How did he even dare smile at her like that? This was freaking Flanagan, for heaven’s sake! Ewwww! As if! He was the most uncool person in the history of the school. If anyone saw her looking at him like that, her social life would be a total wreckage. What would people even say?
“ ... begin in Agerstown, which is a fictional town hypothetically located in Pennsylvania, in the period before Christmas in 1947...”
Miss Black listened, leaning back in her chair, genuinely impressed by yet another impeccable job from her brightest student. Damian’s work was always detailed and exhaustive, but today there was a new energy in his delivery—an added value that made it, in a word, cinematic. He wasn’t just reciting facts; he was telling a story, his voice a smooth, confident baritone that actually made the back row of slackers stop scrolling on their phones and look up. For the first time in his high school career, people were actually listening to him.
He even allowed himself the luxury of being witty, weaving in bits of irony that had a few girls in the front row giggling. It didn’t feel like a graded presentation; it felt like he was commanding a stage. Even Miss Black found herself hanging on his every word, completely forgetting to check her rubric.
“Did you know, Ma’am, that Mark David Chapman, the murderer of John Lennon, literally had Salinger’s book on him during the shooting?” Damian asked, pausing for dramatic effect.
Miss Black blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Uhm ... no, Damian, I actually didn’t know that. That’s a fascinating bit of trivia.”
He flashed her a confident, knowing smile that was a far cry from the nervous fidgeting she was used to. What had happened to this kid? He had started school with his eyes glued to the floor and self-confidence in the negatives. Now, he was a total presence.
Even physically, the glow-up was insane. He was groomed, well-dressed, and—she had to admit—objectively handsome. But it was the attitude that really got her. Everything about the boy had ceased to be ... forgettable. He moved and spoke like someone who knew exactly what he was worth. Miss Black smiled, genuinely happy for him. Whatever the catalyst for this mysterious metamorphosis was, it was doing wonders.
“ ... considered one of the hundred most influential books of all time, written in the English language...”
Bobby Harris wanted to launch his textbook straight at the front of the room. Who the hell did this kid think he was? He was still a microbe. A total zero to be crushed into the dirt, a damn loser—nothing had actually changed. Did he think putting on some designer rags and getting a TikTok haircut made him a man? Bobby watched him with pure loathing, plotting exactly how he was going to bring this “makeover parasite” down a peg.
“ ... No, shut up! I saw him first, I’m literally calling dibs!” he heard whispering from the row behind him.
“Be for real right now,” the other girl hissed back. “You’ve been thirsting over Tommy for months. Just ask him out already!”
“Okay, but Tommy doesn’t look like that. Damian is actually so much cuter!”
“You literally didn’t even know his name until yesterday!”
“That’s cap, I’ve always thought he had potential!”
Bobby’s blood was straight-up boiling. Were two girls actually fighting over Damian Flanagan? The same kid who used to trip over his own shadow in the hallway?
“Are you guys actually serious right now?!” Bobby snapped, whipping around to glare at them, his face turning a dark shade of red.
The two girls looked at him like he was something they’d stepped in on the sidewalk. They weren’t intimidated; they just looked annoyed.
“What’s your problem, Harris? You jealous?” one of them asked, popping her gum.
“Yeah, right!” Bobby spat, turning back around to face the front.
But his eyes were fixed on Flanagan, who was currently wrapping up his presentation with a smug, effortless confidence. Bobby gripped the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles went white.
I’m gonna wreck you, nerd, you better believe it!
“A truly stellar job, Damian,” Miss Black noted as he wrapped up. “I think you’ve set a new bar for the class.”
Danny Altman watched his best friend slide back into his seat after bagging another effortless A+. Damian had mentioned that Pam had been “insistent” about him changing up his look a little. A little ... yeah, right. Like he’d just switched hair gels and called it a day. The guy who used to be basically invisible was now the only thing anyone in the room was talking about.
“Literal GOAT behavior. As always,” Danny greeted him as everyone started packing up. Damian just flashed a grin and held out his hand for a fist bump. It was a total vibe shift for him, but Danny dapped him up with a smile. It was wild—the slow-burn transformation that started a few months ago had finally peaked. Damian was barely recognizable, but in the best way possible.
Not that Danny was complaining. He was hyped for his boy; Damian was more open, way more chill, and actually fun to be around now. Plus, being the sidekick to the “New Damian” definitely had its perks.
“We moving?” Danny asked, heading out into the hallway with his lifelong best friend trailing behind him.
The stares hit them instantly. Usually, Danny hated being noticed—it usually meant a locker was about to meet his face—but now, he was actually enjoying the attention. People weren’t just looking; they were glitching. The glow-up was the main topic, but the real soul-crusher for the haters was what happened next.
“Damian!”
Pam appeared out of nowhere, slipping between the two of them and throwing an arm around each of their necks.
“Hey, Pam,” Damian said, sounding way too calm for someone who had the school’s most popular girl draped over him.
“Danny, thank God you’re here. Can you do me a massive favor, honey?”
Damian watched Danny struggle to form a sentence that didn’t sound like a stroke. The usual stammering hit him the second Pam got within a thirty-foot radius. “S-s-sure, P-Pam! Anything for you.”
“Brent’s laptop literally bricked right before his history presentation. He’s low-key spiraling. Can you go be a genius and save his life?”
“On it! I’m gone!” Danny chirped. Pam gave him a quick, sweet peck on the cheek, and for a second, Damian thought Danny might actually leave this earth.
“Come on, let’s go!” she said, hooking her arm through Damian’s as they started strutting down the dead-center of the main hallway.
There it was. This was the real reason everyone’s jaws were on the floor. The school’s queen was proudly walking the “Nerd”—who didn’t look like a nerd at all anymore—right past all the people who used to laugh at him. Damian laughed at her flirty jokes, and she leaned into him, putting on the kind of performance they’d perfected in the bedroom. It was a masterpiece, and every single person in that hallway was eating it up. They were breathing in the air of the new hierarchy, and Damian was officially at the top.
Brent Miller knew he wasn’t a rocket scientist. He wasn’t a total brick, but he’d basically spent his life coasting on the fact that he could launch a football sixty yards and hit a dime. The school, the town, and the teachers usually looked the other way when his GPA hit the floor, but Brent could still do caveman math—and something about the way Pam was always hanging with her “tutor” was starting to smell weird.
It wasn’t just the time they spent together; it was the fact that the new-and-improved Damian Flanagan made Brent’s gut twist. The kid didn’t look like a punching bag anymore—he kinda looked like a threat. But what made it worse was that Damian actually seemed like a chill dude. He was funny, even if half his jokes went over Brent’s head. After the kid and his tech-genius friend Danny saved Brent’s ass by fixing his laptop for that History presentation, Brent felt like a massive tool for even being suspicious. His brain said it was fine, but his locker-room instinct was screaming red flag.
Being a guy who usually acted before thinking, Brent decided to bring it up after they’d finished a particularly athletic round of “cardio” in his bedroom. Pam’s reaction was instant. She pulled back and literally shrieked with laughter.
“Lmao! Brent, please! Stop, I’m actually gonna pee!”
“I’m for real, Pam. Don’t laugh at me.”
“How can I not? We’re talking about Damian! Like, until last week, you were calling him ‘Four-Eyes’ and literally stuffing him into lockers. Remember that?”
“But he’s different now. He’s...” Brent trailed off, struggling to find the word. Pam leaned in, her voice dropping into a sultry purr.
“Cute? Friendly? Sexy?” She lingered on the last word, and Brent looked like he’d been punched in the soul. She just laughed again, poking his chest.
“Relax, baby. I promise you have zero things to worry about.” She climbed on top of him, her hands wandering over his massive pecs. “Yeah, he’s a good-looking kid now. Honestly, I’m the one who did the glow-up. I care about him, like he’s a little brother or a project. I just want to help him be ... You know, not a loser. That’s it. The fact that you’re actually jealous of him is sending me.”
She giggled like a happy schoolgirl, and Brent suddenly felt like a total meathead.
“You’re not caping, right? You’re being for real?”
She shook her head, giving him a look that clearly said you’re such a big dummy, and Brent finally let his guard down. What was he even thinking? Cute or not, Damian was a sophomore. A rookie. A nerd. The idea was actually hilarious.
“So, you really think you can make him popular?”
“Yeah ... and I’m literally going to succeed.” She started trailing kisses down his neck.
“Well, that’s a hell of a project,” Brent noted. “Not exactly a light lift.”
“You could help me,” Pam whispered, looking up through her lashes.
“Me? What am I supposed to do, take him to prom?”
“Nothing major. Just talk to him. Let people see the varsity captain actually likes him.” She locked her dark eyes onto his, and Brent was basically putty in her hands.
“I mean, I do like him. He’s chill. He’s actually funny.”
“Exactly. Just like I told you,” she replied, giving him a look.
He laughed, then thought about it for a second, and finally shrugged. “Okay, why not? Could be a vibe. You really think people will care just because we say he’s cool?”
“Hahaha! Are you for real right now? Are you seriously asking me that, Mr. I’m-the-Main-Character-because-I-throw-footballs?”
Brent pulled her in, his massive arms wrapping around her in a bear hug. “Hahaha! Listen to you! As if you aren’t the exact same way, you brat. You literally run this place.”
“I totally do, that’s why I know we can make it happen,” she laughed, looking up at him with a look of pure innocence.
“You know? I think the Nerd might be onto something,” Brent said, shaking his head. “You’ve got way too much brain in that little head of yours. It’s actually kind of scary how you plan things out.”
Pam smiled, soaking in the praise as she let her hand wander south, sliding between his legs. “Mm ... do you think my favorite toy wants to have a little more fun if I give it a ‘little kiss’?”
Brent let out a low groan, already leaning into her touch. “I think you’re gonna have to give it way more than a little kiss if you want to wake it back up, for real.”
“Mm ... then I guess I better get to work!”
He watched her disappear under the heavy duvet, feeling the warmth of her lips settle on him a second later. Man, life is good, he thought, his head hitting the pillow in total bliss.
“Oohh ... God, I love you, Pam!”
The only response he got was a wicked, muffled giggle from beneath the covers.
“Hahahaha! I’m dead! He was actually jealous! Brent was literally threatened by you! Can you believe that?!”
Pam and Damian were in her room, mid-”study session.” They were both completely naked, enjoying the post-round chill. Damian was sprawled out in a plush armchair, looking like he owned the place, while Pam lay on the floor at his feet. They were laughing hysterically at Brent’s expense as they caught their breath.
“Hahaha! And how exactly did you convince him that...” he trailed off, smirking.
“ ... that the shy, awkward nerd from sophomore year doesn’t low-key move like a god and hasn’t been absolutely wrecking me for the past four months?” Pam gave a succinct, vivid summary of the situation.
“Hehehe! Honestly? Accurate. No notes.”
“Well, let’s just say I put my mouth to work,” she teased.
“Hahaha! Oh, I bet. I know exactly how that mouth works, Pam.”
“Hey, it wasn’t even like that ... well, not at first,” she winked, and they both dissolved into another fit of laughter.
“Anyway, I played him perfectly. He’s officially on Team Damian.”
“Wait, for real? He’s actually down to help me?” Damian asked, genuinely surprised.
“Totally!” she said, looking proud of her handiwork. “If people see you guys hanging, they’ll just assume you’re part of the inner circle and...”
Damian started snickering, the sound dry and arrogant. “And that automatically makes me a main character and blah ... blah ... blah...” He was clutching his stomach now. “Hahaha! This is too much. I’m literally railing his girl every afternoon, and he wants to help me out. The irony is insane!”
She laughed along, then her expression softened into something sweeter. “Do you actually feel bad for him?”
Damian thought for a second. “I mean, no. He was always a total dick to me, so ... karma.” He looked down at her. “But you’re a piece of work, Pam. Why do you do this to him? He’s your boyfriend. Sleeping with me is one thing, but manipulating him to help me? That’s cold.”
Pam’s smile faltered for a second, like he’d hit a nerve she wasn’t ready to deal with. She hesitated, struggling for an answer.
“I ... I care about him, but ... well, you’re...”
“What?” he pressed, enjoying her rare moment of vulnerability.
She hesitated again, then gave him an amused, defeated look. “You’re more important, Flanagan. Happy now?”
Damian smiled, satisfied, but didn’t say a word. He just watched her from his throne.
“Anyway,” she continued, “his help is gonna be huge. He’ll do whatever I tell him; I’ve got him wrapped. You just focus on bossing me around, Nerd. I’ll handle the meathead. Hehehe!”
Damian shook his head, chuckling. “Well, you’re definitely the brains of this operation. You’re killing it.” He lazily moved his foot until it was resting right against her face. “Here. You’ve earned the right to give me twenty kisses. Make them count, though—we actually have to open a book in a minute.”
Pam started kissing the long, perfect sole of his foot. It was warm and soft, but the scent today was intense. It was like she’d been dropped straight into the varsity locker room after a double practice.
“Damian...” she murmured against his skin, “I mean, I love doing this, but you could’ve at least hit the shower before coming over.”
He just laughed, pressing his heel into her cheek. “Nah, Pam. I’m way too comfortable. I’m not moving.” He crossed his arms behind his head, pressing his toes firmly against her lips. “Kiss them as they are.”
“Do you even know how these smell right now?” she asked, her voice breathy.
“Vaguely,” he chuckled, snickering at her flushed face. “But I’m not the one with my nose buried in them, so not really my problem, is it?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re actually mean, Nerd!”
He kept rubbing his foot against her face for a while, then his tone shifted to that dark, teasing authority she loved. “If the smell is really bothering you, you could just lick them clean. That would fix the problem, right? When you’re done, it’ll be like I took a shower.”
She looked at him like he was insane. “Are you for real?”
He shrugged. “It’s the best solution, Pam. I told you, I’m not getting up.”
“Damian ... that’s gross. They’re literally sweaty.”
Damian just gave her a smug, calm smile. “Obviously. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, right?” He leaned in closer. “By now, these spend more time on your face than they do in my shoes. What’s the difference?”
His logic was flawless. Pam realized with a jolt that he had stolen her own art of persuasion and turned it against her. He was a master at it now. It was hard not to be impressed by how thoroughly he’d flipped the script.
“Pam, you’re gonna like it. You know you will,” he whispered, trying to pry her lips apart with his big toe. “Once you get used to it, you won’t want to stop. Just like everything else we do.”
It was like a command she couldn’t ignore. Her lips parted, her tongue got to work, and as the last bit of her “Queen Bee” dignity crumbled, Damian let out a satisfied sigh. He let her work for a few seconds before asking:
“So? How is it?”
She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “Honestly? I thought it would be worse,” she laughed.
“Hahaha! I bet by next week you’ll be begging for it. Just keep practicing, toy.”
Pam’s heart did a literal somersault. “Toy”—it was her absolute favorite name. Every time it dropped from his lips, she felt a rush of heat that made her want to melt into the carpet.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Nerd!”
Damian leaned back in the armchair, watching her with a lazy, heavy-lidded gaze. He was soaking up the attention like the king Pam was so desperate to make him, and honestly? The throne felt like it was custom-fit for his ass. He felt a wave of magical euphoria—a lightheaded, intoxicating buzz that made him want to laugh out loud. A literal sex goddess was currently busy licking the sweat off his skin, and all he could think was: More. I want more, damn it. He wondered just how much lower he could make her go before she hit rock bottom.
Minutes ticked by. Pam was meticulously “washing” first the left foot, then the right, her tongue working with a rhythmic, focused devotion that suggested she wasn’t nearly as disgusted as she pretended to be. Despite the initial complaints, she didn’t stop until she’d freed him from every trace of the day’s grime. Damian watched her, looking completely relaxed, as if this was just a standard Tuesday afternoon.
“So, I’m actually going out with Sally tomorrow,” he said, his tone casual and conversational.
Pam looked up, “Wait, for real? Progressive!” she chirped, genuinely hyped. “What’s she like?”
He shrugged, letting out a small snicker. “She’s pretty. A little reserved, though.”
“Hehe! Just remember the rule, Nerd,” she mumbled, her tongue busy working between his toes. “You’ve gotta get her to suck your dick by the fourth date, or I’ll be super disappointed.”
“Pam, not every girl is as obsessed with being a human vacuum as you are, you know?”
The jab was sharp and calculated, and his baritone voice dripped with a dominant edge that made her pulse jump. She raised an eyebrow, looking up at him from the floor.
“Wow, you’re always such a romantic when you talk about me, Nerd!”
They both laughed, the sound echoing in the room. Damian continued to slide his foot back and forth over her tongue like she was a living doormat, enjoying the friction and the total control he held over her. She pulled his big toe into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before speaking again.
“Just don’t forget everything I taught you. I didn’t train you to be a mid-tier date.”
Damian let out a dorky, genuine laugh. For a split second, the high-IQ nerd he’d always been peeked through his new, cold exterior. “Yes, Master Yoda!”
Pam rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she went back to work. “God, you are such a dork. Even when you’re being a prick, you’re still a dork.”
Sally closed her front door and leaned against it, a dazed, goofy smile plastered across her face. Her head was floating somewhere in the stratosphere. She had just said goodbye—totally against her will—to the guy she’d spent the last four hours with.
What a date. Honestly, it was beyond anything she’d imagined. Damian wasn’t just “cute” or suddenly rising up the school food chain; he was brilliant, witty, and actually fun to talk to. He had this vibe—sweet but low-key powerful, totally confident without that annoying, try-hard energy the varsity guys had when they were thirsty for attention. In short, he felt like the ultimate catch.
She practically floated to her room and shrugged off her jacket, feeling a sudden heat wave hit her. Her knees were still literally trembling. That kiss at the door ... just thinking about it sent a massive shiver down her spine. It wasn’t like Sally was some seasoned pro, but that kiss felt ... bold. It was passionate and masculine, yet somehow gentle enough to keep her grounded.
That one kiss had left her starving for more—and not just more kisses. Her mind started drifting toward the kind of spicy thoughts that a “good girl” like her wasn’t supposed to have. She was completely smitten. “Nerd”? Who the hell ever called him that? People were so blind. He was someone to hold onto, and she was already mentally preparing to gatekeep him from the rest of the school. Luckily, she’d seen the vision first!
Bobby Harris’s morning was already a total disaster. He’d just tanked an algebra test with a D-, but the real torture was having to sit through Amanda Derrik—that brainless airhead behind him—recounting her date with Flanagan to her friend.