Cole

I've caught Amanda red-handed in the offense that's going to get her kicked out.

She sits across from me in my office.

Instead of fear in her eyes, she stares straight at me, defiance and craving clear on her face.

Her breasts press up against the thin material of her white top, her plaid skirt riding high up her thigh and exposing her pale flesh.

She's my forbidden fantasy, down to the pigtails and bright red pouty lips.

My cock stiffens in my workout sweatpants, pulsing and pressing against the material.

"What the hell were you thinking? You're on academic probation, and you key a car?"

Her eyes widen slightly, but there's no hint of fear.

"So report me. Get me kicked out. See if I care." She spits the words out, daring me.

Amanda wriggles in her seat, toying with her pigtails. She knows exactly what she's doing.

I can taste her need, smell her scent.

She's trying to get me riled up enough to bend her over my desk and spank her ass red.

My cock tents the fabric of my all seasons running sweats, pressing obscenely towards her.

"I've read your file, Amanda. The arson charge that became a mischief misdemeanor after you batted your eyes and played innocent to the judge. The shoplifting charge that the store owner conveniently dropped. You need a wake-up call."

She purses her full, pouty lips before responding.

"A wake-up call? And I suppose you think you're the one to give it to me?"

She's playing up her brattiness.

The scent of vodka lingers on her, and the alcohol is giving her courage to push me past the edge.

The smell of alcohol is the only thing that's stopping me from ordering Amanda to bend over my desk.

If she was sober, I'd be bringing my palm down hard on her ass and giving her the punishment she craves.

"Tell me, Amanda, how did you convince the judge to throw away the arson charges?"

She leans forward, and another button on her shirt pops open, exposing the pale skin of her perfect breasts.

She pretends not to notice, pressing herself closer to me to give me a view of her flawless young body.

The beast in me fights against its chains.

I want to rip her clothes off and take her hard on my desk, fill her with my hot seed and claim her body.

I breathe in her scent, her lust overshadowed by the alcohol.

Amanda cocks her head, surprised by the question.

She looks like she's considering whether to tell me the truth or spin a tale.

"He had a daughter at my school who always dressed in bright turquoise. She was around my age, really shy and very kind. So I bought the same dress as her, did my makeup the same, hair, everything. I showed up to trial and sat there meek as a mouse. I even let myself cry a little when the charges were read, a pitiful little sniffle."

She sounds so proud of herself that it makes my skin itch. I nod, understanding her ploy.

"He thought of his daughter and let you off easy."

"Exactly. So professor Russo, are you going to let me off easy?"

She smirks, every inch of her being daring me to take matters into my own hands.

Her voice is more confident than before.

I've been asking her questions about her past, not threatening to report her to the dean, and the wheels in her head are turning.

Looking for a way out of her newest predicament. She thinks she can play me like she played that judge.

The college is empty this early in the morning. No one would hear her yelp if I spanked her gorgeous ass red.

No one would know as I tasted her young, off-limits pussy and made her scream out in pleasure.

Suddenly she can't meet my eyes, her cheeks flushed with desire. She wants, no, she needs me to take her hard.

My cock throbs painfully in need, aching to be inside of her. She's going to learn who's in control.

"That's been your strategy, and it's worked. You're a chameleon. You find out what people want, and you become that version of yourself to charm, seduce, and manipulate. Just like you let that button pop open so you can show off your body to me."

Her cheeks flush red with anger, and she swiftly buttons up her top. When her shirt is properly buttoned, I continue.

"I knew exactly what you were doing when you showed up to my second class in that body-hugging sweater and skirt so short you knew I almost got a glimpse of your perfect little pussy when you uncrossed your legs. You have a fitting name, Amanda. The Willow bends into any shape the wind wants it to, and never breaks."

She bites her lip and looks straight into my eyes, her eyes burning embers of need and power.

Her words are perfectly clear through the haze of alcohol.

"My perfect little pussy? You want me, professor Bold. You're a dirty professor, aren't you? Don't you know it's against the rules to talk like this to a student?"

I reach forward and take her chin in my hand. She doesn't flinch and I feel her smooth skin, imagining exactly what I would do to her.

How tight she would be, how she would struggle to take my cock at first and the way she'd moan and scream when I fuck her hard with every throbbing inch.

"You've been living out your life being what other people want. You need to start admitting what you want."

She trembles under my hand, and I can see the desire pulsing through her young, fertile body.

"Say what you want, Amanda."

She can't meet my eyes, her words quieter now. Her facade of defiance has cracked.

I press her chin up gently, forcing her to meet my eyes.

"I want you, professor Russo."

"What do you want me to do to you?"

She pauses. Her eyes close.

"I want you to take my virginity."

Her virginity. She's untouched, innocent and unclaimed.

When I'm finished with her, she will be ruined for any other man.

Her eyes flash open again, and I see how nervous she is. Under all her defiance and brattiness, she's unsure of herself.

"You've been running wild, Amanda. I can teach you what you need. Discipline."

I let go of her chin, craving the touch of her flesh.

Knowing that one more second of contact and I won't be able to restrain myself from taking her hard, right here, right now.

She wriggles in her seat, her whole being overwhelmed by my commanding voice.

"Teach me, professor Russo."

Each word is hot with desire. The scent of vodka in her breath hardens my words.

"I'm going to do more than teach you. I'm going to train you, Amanda."

She moans softly at my words, her hand running down her thigh.

"I'm going to train you to be the perfect little submissive that you've always wanted to be. I can see through you, Amanda, to that smoldering desire that's built up inside you. You've never found a man worthy of taming you... until now."

Her nipples are so hard I can see them through her shirt, diamonds begging to be pinched and pulled.

My words hypnotize her, her lust overwhelming.

It's all I can do to stop myself from letting my inner animal out, growling and fucking her into a puddle of submission.

Every muscle in my body is tense, my heart pounding with my need to fill her with my hot cum.

But I know I can't, not like this, while she's still drunk from the night before.

"I want... I want you to train me, professor Russo. I want you to punish me."

The image of my hand turning her ass red fixes in my mind, of pulling her over my knees and running my hand up her skirt to expose her untouched bottom to me.

Making her moan in pain and humiliated pleasure.

"You want to be my bad little slut, don't you?"

"I can't take this, professor Russo, I want you so fucking bad," she moans, her hands moving up and down her thigh, and I know exactly what she's thinking.

"Prove it."

"Anything, professor."

Bend over my desk and get ready for a spanking. I fight back the words, knowing it's wrong.

It isn't that I'm her professor. It isn't that she's a decade younger than me.

We can't do anything until she's sober.

"If you're serious, meet me tomorrow at my home. 100 Block FF, with the big black gates. Be there at seven PM sharp. Sober."

She starts in her chair. She looks like she just broke out of a spell, her mouth open in a soundless gasp.

"You don't want me now?"

"You're drunk, and you're under threat of getting kicked out of the school. I'm not going to report you to the dean. I'm not going to get you in trouble. If you want to be my submissive, you need to prove it to me... tomorrow."

Old habits die hard in me.

My time spent undercover makes me quick on my feet, and I pull my pen from my pocket.

It looks like any other pen, but press it three times and it can record up to four minutes of audio.

I hand it to Amanda.

"What's this?"

"In case you're so wasted you might not remember what you've said... press it four times to replay our conversation."

Her cheeks turn red, and I know she's feeling embarrassed. She isn't used to not getting her way. She holds the pen meekly in her hand.

I stand up, and her eyes dart down to my cock. I'm fully, throbbing hard, and the sweatpants tent out so hard the elastic is in danger of snapping.

"You're fucking huge," she says.

Her cheeks turn bright red and she bites her bottom lip in embarrassment.

I clear my throat and help her stand, pulling back her chair.

I pull my warmest jacket from the coat rack and put it over her shoulders.

It stretches all the way down past her thighs.

The alcohol may have made her impervious to the cold, but it sure as hell won't stop her from getting sick.

I walk her back to dorms and she doesn't say a word, clearly overwhelmed.

She fiddles with the lock of the exterior door to her dorm, and when she finally gets it open she looks up at me with sweet, innocent eyes.

"Thank you for not turning me in to the dean."

I smile, and pull the door open for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Amanda."

I know she wants it, and bad, but it will be oh so much sweeter when she earns it.

When I train her to be my perfect little submissive.

Oh, she's going to learn discipline alright.

Strict, painful, necessary discipline.