Amanda

All I have to do to prove I want to be professor Russo's submissive is have the courage to meet him at his house.

"Here we are. 100 Block FF."

"Thank you," I say, handing the cab driver a twenty and stepping into the brisk evening air.

The street is quiet.

Massive white gates dwarf me as I stand looking through the wrought iron bars, staring up the winding driveway to the house at the top.

In that house is the sinfully handsome professor Cole Russo.

The only man who knows every deep, dirty desire I have.

My heart pounds, and I turn back towards the cab.

For a split second I want to jump in the back, tell the driver it was a mistake, and that I want to go back to dorms.

The cab peels away, leaving me standing in the wind.

I'm glad I wore a blue wool coat over my grey heathered sweater dress.

As I stand in front of those huge gates, I know that if I go through them my life will be irrevocably changed.

The gates slide open noiselessly in front of me.

The winding driveway draws me forward towards the house.

Each step forward I'm more sure of myself, the gate sliding closed behind me.

I approach the wooden front door of his house with my heart pounding, my breath quick.

What am I going to say to him? What did he mean by being his submissive?

I pause for half a second in front of the door, then knock three times in quick succession.

The door opens and my professor stands in front of me.

Even in my heeled boots he is so much taller than me.

His green eyes look me up and down and a smile comes to his face.

He's wearing a tight sweater that shows off his muscular physique and light brown khaki pants with a dark belt.

He's not going to use that belt on me, is he? Would I want that?

"Let's get you out of the cold," he says.

I step inside and the warmth of his house wraps around me like a hug.

He closes the door behind me and the whole rest of the world stops mattering.

In the privacy of his house, it doesn't matter that he is my professor and I am his student.

It doesn't matter what my family would think of me.

"Hi professor Cole," I say, wishing I could think of something witty and

flirty as I look up at him.

"Hello Amanda," he says, helping me get my coat off.

When his hands touch my shoulders, it sends a flutter all the way through my body.

"Come with me."

There's an edge to his voice that makes me stand up straighter.

I was about to ask if I should take my boots off, but instead I follow him down the hallway.

Where is he taking me? Does he have some room full of whips and chains?

My nervous thoughts melt away as he ushers me into a huge library with a roaring fire.

The walls are mahogany, and two of them have built-in wood bookshelves filled with tomes.

A winding staircase leads to a second floor of more books.

Heat emanates from the fireplace, and I can feel the heat and light dancing on my body.

"It's beautiful," I say, feeling awed by the room.

It looks like something from a movie.

"Take a seat," he says, and his voice has changed.

He isn't asking. He's telling me what to do.

I sit down in one of the leather chairs in front of the fireplace, crossing my legs.

He sits down in the identical chair in front of me.

"Tell me why you're here, Amanda."

He loves to make me say what I want.

My cheeks flush, and I find it hard to meet his eyes.

The humiliation of my desires exposed is intense.

I take a breath, and try to fill my voice with as much false confidence as I can.

"To prove to you that I'm serious."

There's lust in my voice, naked lust

that I can't hide.

"Serious about what?"

His brilliant green eyes stare at me like a hawk.

I can't meet them, looking down at the coffee table in front of me.

I bite my lip gently, smoothing my dress on my thighs.

Oh God, I'm really going to say it.

"About being your submissive."

"You asked me to train you. To teach you... and to punish you. Do you still want that?"

Yes, so fucking badly, more than anything.

His words send heat through my body, and I can feel myself getting wet.

He's so comfortable, sitting back in his chair, his legs wide. I can't meet his eyes, feeling shy and vulnerable.

Instead my eyes travel over the tight sweater that hugs his powerful body, his light grey pants and the thick shape of his cock.

I can see it straining against his clothing, wanting me.

How can he be so in control with his cock rock hard?

The massive length of his cock hard and pulsing in his pants fills me with confidence.

He wants me. He wants me just as bad as I want him.

"I do still want that, professor Russo."

The slightest hint of a smile comes to his face. Then it becomes stern and hard.

"Being my submissive means following the rules. Strict rules. You don't have a good record of following rules."

"I'll follow the rules, professor," I say too quickly, wriggling in my seat.

I want so badly to straddle him, to feel his pulsing cock against my body and his hands all over me.

My whole body is on fire with hot need, from the tips of my aching, hard nipples down to the slickness between my thighs.

This is something darker than any need I've had before.

A need that I've pushed down farther and farther inside of me, a need that's boiling over. Controlling me.

He lifts up one finger.

"First rule. If you are ever uncomfortable or need to pause, you say the safe-word. Cherry. Say it for me."

"Cherry," I repeat, and the first rule makes everything so much more real.

He holds up a second finger.

"If you want to be my submissive, you don't drink, you get your assignments done, and you finish this term. If you can't show me you have the discipline to get your life back on track, you will never have the discipline to be my submissive."

What the hell does my school have to do with submitting to professor Russo? What right does he have to tell me I can't go out and party?

"Say it."

I bite my lip. This is different than I was expecting.

I was expecting to be trained by a dominant man, not controlled.

Then I imagine breaking his rules.

His hand slapping down on my ass and teaching me a lesson.

I can't take this, I'm so fucking turned on.

"I won't drink, I won't flunk out."

"Good." He holds up a third finger.

"When you're here, you do everything I say."

"Everything?"

He nods. "Yes. Anything. You have to trust me not to push you past your boundaries... and if I do, you use the safe-word."

I brush a wisp of hair that fell in front of my face to the side.

"I'll do everything you say."

He nods, and holds up a fourth finger.

"Final rule. If you need to be punished, you take your punishment."

It's like I'm in a trance.

He's so fucking powerful as he sits back in his chair, and my eyes dart to his hand, imagining him meting out a harsh punishment on my bottom.

God, I want it so bad. I need to be punished right now.

"If I need to be punished, you punish me," I mirror his words, hearing the dark heat in my own voice.

Those dirty words push me over the edge. I don't care what happens, I need him, and bad. He lowers his hand to his leg.

I finally meet his eyes. They are dark pools of need, animal heat that burns hotter than the fire.

His muscles tense and flex under his sweater. He looks like a man about to lose control. I'm doing this to him.

"Stand."

I stand up, the flickering light of the fire illuminating me.

"Take off your clothes for me," he says, leaning back with his hands clasped behind his head.

His words send a shock through me.

I've never been completely naked in front of a guy before.

I've fumbled in the dark, but the light of the fire will completely expose me.

I promised to do everything he said.

I take a deep breath and reach down to pull off my boot.

"No. Those last," says Cole, his voice strained with need.

I bite my lip and pull my dress off over my head.

I stand in front of him in the black lacy underwear I picked out, just for him.

Just for Cole Russo. His eyes devour me, green pools of need. His look of pure lust fills me with confidence.

He loves my body.

I toss my dress on the chair and stand in front of him, wanting him to give me another order before I continue.

"You're perfection," he says reverentially.

I reach back and undo the hooks of my bra and let it fall to the floor like petals drifting to the ground.

My nipples are rock hard, the warmth of the fire cascading over my body and mirroring the desire that burns inside me.

I bend down, my heart pounding as I pull my black lacy thong off over my heeled black boots.

"Turn for me. Slowly."

My cheeks flush red and I turn slowly, facing away from him.

"Take off your boots."

His words are a command.

I bite my lip and bend down, knowing he can see everything.

Knowing that his eyes are devouring every inch of my body as I slip the boots off.

I push them away and turn back around. His cock is so fucking hard in his pants.

He motions with two fingers for me to come closer to him. He is completely clothed while I am exposed.

The imbalance is obvious. I walk closer, and the only thing stopping me from feeling shameful in my nakedness is the pure need in his eyes.

He smiles and pats his knee.

"Come sit on my lap," he says, his voice softer than when he ordered me to strip.

I walk softly to him, and sit on his lap.

His cock is an iron rod that presses against me, and I lean back against his body.

He's so big that my feet dangle off the ground.

Being naked on his lap while he's still wearing all his clothes just makes me feel more submissive.

His mouth is near my neck, and I can feel his warm breath. I breathe in the scent of his cologne.

His right hand rests on my upper thigh, his left hand slowly moving up my stomach towards my breasts.

"It's time you learned some discipline, isn't it," he says into my ear, his voice low.

His words flow into me like honeyed rum, intoxicating me with desire.

"Teach me discipline, Cole," I moan, and his fingers slide up my body and pinch my nipple, hard.

"Another rule. Here, you call me sir, master, or professor Cole."

"Yes master," I say instantly.

Master. That means he owns me.

The only sound is the fire popping and our breathing. The whole world ceases to exist except for his private study. No one can see me here. No one can judge me.

In here, all that matters is him and me.

"From now on, Amanda, you only cum in my presence. I own your pleasure."

His finger circles my nipple as he says it, teasing me.

His right hand is moving up my thigh, closer and closer to my wetness, making me shudder in pure need.

"Yes sir," I respond instantly, and he positions me so he can kiss me.

He strokes me into burning desire as his mouth finds mine, his fingers dancing over my body and sending tingles of pure need over me.

His left-hand moves between my thighs, and he feels how wet I am.

He breaks off the kiss and I groan in need as his left hand moves from my soaking pussy up and he licks his fingers.

It's so fucking hot to feel his cock pulse as he tastes my juices. I want to make him cum.

I imagine him taking me right now on the floor in front of the fire, feeling his cock pounding into me as his hand disciplines me.

I want him to take my virginity and claim me as his, now.

"Do you want to see what happens if you break the rules?"

My cheeks start to redden and I look down.

Humiliatingly. Shamefully.

I do.

All my life I've been able to get out of things.

To manipulate people and show them the side of me that will get me out of trouble.

I want to see if professor Cole will be lenient or harsh.

"What happens if I break the rules, Cole Russo?"

My voice is a challenge as I stress the syllables of his name.

Not master, not sir, not professor. Cole Russo.

He lifts me from his lap like I am weightless, and I realize how strong he is.

I've seen his muscular physique straining against his tight sweater, but I never knew how easily he could move me around.

He pulls me over his lap abruptly.

My ass is exposed to him.

I've never felt so naked and helpless in my life.

He lets his hand run from the small of my back down to the flesh of my buttocks.

"Before we start, I need you to say the safe-word one more time. To prove to me you remember it."

"Cherry, Cole, cherry," I say with a tremble in my voice, trying to sound bratty as I stress the syllables of his name.

He responds with a slap to my ass, and instant pain shoots through me.

Fuck. That hurt more than I thought it would.

The pain is arousing in a deep, dark way I don't understand.

I lift my head and notice the mirror in the corner of the room, an ornate, old mirror that shows me exactly how I look.

Naked. Exposed. Helpless.

An 18-year-old student over the lap of an older, dominant man. Being punished for being naughty.

I barely recognize myself in the face that looks back at me, a face that is overwhelmed by shameful need.

"You're a little brat and I'm going to teach you respect," he growls.

His hand lifts up and I watch in the mirror as it comes down against my right buttock, hard. Crack!

The sound of flesh on flesh fills the room.

He gave me just enough time between strokes to forget how bad it hurt. The pain is intense and delicious.

A little whimper leaves my mouth, but I want to prove myself. I need to prove I can handle anything he can give me.

His left hand pulls my hands together against my back.

He starts to spank me on my left ass cheek, the slap of flesh against flesh obscene and humiliating.

I moan as the pain increases and he slides a finger inside of me, toying with me.

Moans of pleasure escape my mouth as his finger slides deep into my wetness.

The pleasure lasts only seconds before his finger leaves me and he spanks me again.

His other hand leaves my arms behind my back and fists my hair.

I instinctively clasp my hands together behind my back.

Part of me wants to say the safe-word as tears come to my eyes.

Cherry, that part of my brain thinks over and over, but I force the words back.

I want to experience the punishment. I want to feel just how much discipline he will mete out. I bite my lip.

"You know you were naughty and deserve to be spanked," he says, his voice stern.

My cheeks go bright red. It's so humiliating to be treated like this.

He continues the harsh spanking and I know my ass must be turning red.

The moment the pain verges on unbearable he slides two fingers into my wetness.

He curls them and I gasp in sudden pleasure.

I arch my ass towards his fingers, wanting them deeper, wanting the pleasure more intensely, but as soon as I present myself to him his fingers leave tortuously.

I'm left wanting so much more when he spanks me again.

I'm so exposed over his knees, feeling his cock pressing against me, iron hard.

The pain is sharp and agonizing from his hand firmly spanking against my ass, and I moan out between the smacks of his hand on my bottom.

"Sir I won't forget again, I won't forget," I moan.

He stops spanking me, his hand moving to my soaking wet pussy.

I know I'm ruining his pants with my wetness and his fingers slide deep into me.

His thumb presses on my clit, moving in quick circles that send electricity through my body.

"Oh my God, oh fuck Master Russo," I moan, my cheeks bright red with humiliation and lust.

It's like he knows my body better than I do. I can feel my pleasure building up, ready to burst like a dam.

I know he can smell my juices and the obscene realization makes me feel even more intensely his.

"I'm going to cum, please, Sir, may I cum," I moan, begging, terrified that he will stop and leave me panting and moaning in humiliated desire and need.

"Cum for me, my perfect little Amanda," he commands, his thumb circling faster and faster and I scream out in pleasure, unbridled in the safety of his study as waves of sensation overpower me.

My body shakes as he pleasures me, and I can feel the massive thickness of his cock under me as the most powerful orgasm I have ever felt completely overwhelms my being.

When the pleasure finally subsides I can barely move.

I hear him open the drawer next to him and hear the sound of something squirting.

His hand gently strokes a cream onto my burning, painful rump, and the pain turns into luxurious, blessed coolness.

He rubs lotion carefully over the areas where he spanked me, slow and gentle, and I can feel the affection from his touch.

Though his cock is straining against his pants and I know I'm so wet he can almost taste me, he cares more about soothing me than his own pleasure.

When he has rubbed the lotion in completely, he lifts me and I straddle him, facing him and looking up at his powerful body.

He wraps his arms around me and holds me close to him, smoothing my hair. I'm sweat-soaked and trembling.

"That was intense for you, I know."

My whole body is shaking and trembling from my orgasm.

The cheeks of my ass, though soothed, are still burning up and I move so that they won't touch against the material of his pants.

Though my body is overwhelmed by what just happened, I know what I want to do.

I want to finally see his massive cock that I have felt straining against me, wanting me.

I want to satisfy him.

"Sir, I need to satisfy you," I say, and bite my lip. "Please."

I can't believe I'm begging him to suck his cock, for him to fuck me hard.

"That was a harsh punishment, Amanda. Are you sure you don't want more time to recover?"

I know he wants me, and bad, and I look up in his eyes, challenging.

"I can take the pain. What I can't take is knowing you're so fucking hard and I didn't do anything about it. You can do anything you want to me, sir, anything."

He kisses me, and suddenly the concern in his eyes is overshadowed my dark need. His green eyes harden.

"On your knees," he commands, and I extract myself from his lap, getting on my knees in front of him.

There is a small, thick rug in front of his chair and my knees sink into it.

I am on my knees in front of him, looking up.

He sits there like a king, in complete control. His cock snakes down his left leg, visible through his pants.

"Unzip my pants."

He leans back, enjoying the view as I reach forward and unzip his pants.

My hand is trembling with anticipation.

I can see his cock pressing against his briefs, the thick, throbbing outline making my mouth fill with saliva.

"Pull down my briefs and take my cock out," he commands, and I can't wait a moment longer.

I pull them down and reach forward, my hand not able to reach around his shaft as I pull his cock out.

His huge cock powers out, standing straight up and throbbing obscenely.

"Oh my God," I say, unable to control my reaction to the enormous dick that stands up in front of me.

From my position on my knees I look up at his huge member, his big balls so full of cum.

I want to lick it, to touch it, but I force myself to stay still until his next order.

"Wrap your hands around my shaft. Do what feels natural."

I wrap my hand around the thick base of his cock, needing both hands to circle his huge manhood and start sliding my hand up and down slowly.

I'm rewarded by a string of pre-cum that gathers on the head and I want to take it in my mouth, but as I lean forward he gently puts his hand on my chin.

"Not yet, my pet. You'll have to earn that."

I groan with frustration.

I have to earn the right to suck his cock? This is so humiliating.

I slide my hand up and down his shaft, my left hand holding his balls. I can barely fit them in my hand and he grunts as I squeeze them gently.

Ooh, he likes that.

I'm fixated on his huge dick as I start to pump it up and down with my hand. I want him to cum more than anything.

"Please master, I want to make you cum so bad," I moan, and he growls in response.

I look up into his eyes and the hunger in them sends a shiver through my body.

I can still feel the redness of my ass from the spanking he gave me and I increase the tempo.

I know he told me I am not allowed to suck his cock, but I spit on the head of it to lubricate it and keep going. I know he is getting close as he growls.

"You're going to make me cum, my good little slut," he says, his voice deep and powerful.

I'm going to make professor Cole Russo cum. Holy fuck.

He leans forward and I angle his huge dick towards me, and I squeeze and pull his balls.

He groans and his cock spurts, shooting a thick stream of cum onto my lips and neck, down my tits.

He keeps cumming and cumming and I milk every drop from him. I'm covered in his sticky seed.

I move quickly backward as the cum starts to drip down my body so that it won't get on the rug.

It drips down me onto the hardwood, and he looks at me with a wolf smile.

I'm covered in his cum.

I'm covered in his seed, his mark, and in this moment, I am his.

"You're my perfect little pet, Amanda."

His cum is warm on my tits, my stomach, dripping down my thighs.

He stands up and stuffs his still semi-hard dick back into his pants, zipping them up with a grunt.

He puts his hand on the small of my back and I walk with him.

I hear his cum plinking down on the hardwood as he escorts me to a massive bathroom.

Just ten minutes after the rough spanking, the pain is already subsiding.

He turns the water of the shower on warm, letting it heat up.

"Keep the water on warm, not hot. Take your time, I'll bring you your clothes."

He leaves me in the massive bathroom, all marble and glass. The water slides down my body as I step into the shower.

It stings a little when the warm water touches on my buttocks, and I turn to look at them.

They have red splotches, but nothing major. It's incredible how much it can hurt in the moment, the way the pain and pleasure mix exquisitely.

Then, not ten minutes later it feels oh so much better.

I clean my face, knowing my makeup has smeared when my eyes watered during the disciplinary spanking.

I hope he likes me just as much without make-up. I bite my lip, already not sure if I want another.

It hurt, yes, but the pain and humiliation turned me on so fucking bad.

I don't want to break any of his rules, though. I want to prove I'm a worthy submissive.

I'll have to find another way to entice him to punish me... I know how to get what I want, even if I'll have to act like an entitled brat to get it.

The door opens, and Cole folds my dress neatly on the black marble countertop.

He places my lacy thong and bra beside it. He even brings my purse from the entrance hall.

I was so fucking wet there's no way I can wear that thong again.

"Thank you," I say over the water, and he grins, enjoying the view as his eyes roam up and down my nakedness.

"No problem. Come meet me in the dining room when you're done. It's just down the hallway."

I finish in the shower and towel off, putting on my bra and sliding my sweater dress on.

It's so nice and warm in his house. I slip my thong in my purse. I step gingerly out of the bathroom and to the dining room, where Cole is pouring tea.

I'm already calling him Cole in my head when he's not in "dominant mode".

Seeing him with tea makes me giggle, and he looks up at me with a smile.

"What's so funny?"

I raise my eyebrows.

"Nothing, I just took you for a coffee man."

He places a mug of steaming tea down in front of me, and I sit down on the thankfully padded dining room chair.

"Oh, I drink way too much coffee. Coffee's great in the morning, tea at night."

I breathe in the tea and take a sip. It's green tea, like you'd get at a sushi restaurant.

"Delicious," I say. It's plain but soothing.

He sits down in front of me. His face looks more serious.

"Amanda, I need you to promise me something."

"More rules?" I ask in a light-hearted tone, wanting him to lose the edge.

After the intensity of the punishment and pleasure, I need to be relaxed.

"In a way. Promise me that you'll use the safe-word if things get too intense. I know this is all new to you, but it's new to me too."

I didn't want to think about him dominating other women. The way he took control so easily, I assumed he'd done it before.

"You've never dominated anyone before?"

He shakes his head, his green eyes looking into mine seriously. He takes a sip of his tea before setting the cup down.

"No. Never. There's something in you that... I don't understand it, but there's something about you that brings it out in me."

"I know what you mean," I say to him, thinking to the way that he makes me feel.

All I felt for the guys in my life previously, the ones that were not worth taking my virginity, was a feeling of slight contempt.

With Cole, I feel respectful. I want to please him.

"Good. I just want to make sure you're OK, that's all. So if anything gets too intense, just tell me."

"I will, Cole. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he says, taking another sip.

"Why did you become a professor?"

His eyes narrow slightly. Not the right thing to ask? I've Googled him before, and he was an undercover cop before teaching.

"Do you know what I did before being a professor?"

I nod. "To be honest, I've Googled you and your past. It's why I love your course so much. You actually understand criminals."

The articles that come up when you search his name are harrowing. The two bullets he took in the line of duty.

The women and girls whose lives he saved from a lifetime of sexual slavery and abuse when he busted the Maturi family's international human smuggling ring.

The 15 million dollars that went missing, never to be found.

"Sometimes I understand criminals all too well. I became a professor because I couldn't work undercover anymore. My face is too recognizable, and after two years of being someone else... I needed a break from police work. Now I spend my time learning the inner workings of criminals. I use my knowledge to consult, sometimes with the local police, sometimes with the FBI. I study these criminals, these murderers, trying to discover their motives... God, how do you find the motives of a beast?"

He has a faraway look in his eyes, and I can tell he's remembering the past.

There's a clouded darkness about him. A storm just under the surface. I take a sip of my tea, the warmth a small comfort.

"You just have to draw from experience, I guess," I say, unsure if he was asking the question rhetorically.

My sisters would never be in this position. They like the safe, easy life.

The honest life, even though their lives were built on corrupt foundations of my father's dirty money.

I will never be like them. Professor Cole Russo is the antithesis of the safe life.

He's the one who keeps the people behind the white picket fences safe.

He smiles grimly, setting down his cup and the light returns to his eyes.

"I see so much potential in you, Amanda."

"Thank you, professor, um," I say hesitantly, and he smiles warmly.

"Just Cole. Don't worry about calling me anything else unless we're in the middle of something," he says with a wink. I giggle.

I have to ask. I'm scared of the answer, but I need to know, and now.

"Have you ever done this with a student before? Aren't you scared of someone finding out?"

"No, and no. I've never wanted a student before, and as to getting found out, well... I've broken rules before. I'm not too worried about the university. If they find out, they find out. I've got enough experience that I can always get another job."

You've broken rules before? What does that mean?

The safe, perfect lives of my sisters is a future I've been fighting against my whole life.

Cole feels... dangerous. It excites me, but it also makes me nervous.

"You spent two whole years undercover?"

"Yes. Two years to take down the Maturi crime family." He looks at me and his brows furrow. "You know, Amanda, I haven't talked to anyone else about this. I don't know how to explain it, but I trust you."

"I trust you too, Cole."

He laughs. "You'd make a great police interviewer. If you can get me to open up this easily, you'll have hardened criminals spilling you their life stories in no time."

I smile.

"Stop that. You don't mean it."

Despite my logical brain sending up warning flags, my body trusts him, my gut trusts him, and my heart trusts him.

I feel safe around him.

He finishes his tea, and I leave mine half-full. I'm already imagining the next time I'll see him.

I chose my next words carefully, knowing exactly how they are going to sound.

I shudder, remembering the way he brought me to orgasm so easily, as if he knew every inch of my body instinctively.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The words come out sounding submissive. Deferential.

He smiles, his gorgeous face looking happy. I've always seen him so serious in front of the class.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?"

I bite my lip, looking up at him. "You do it to me."

He stands up, walking next to my chair and strokes my hair. I kept it dry in the shower, not wanting to catch a chill.

"Our next class is on Tuesday. I want you to spend tomorrow getting caught up. I know you aren't doing well in your other courses. Focus on them. Get back to a place where you don't have to be stressed about school. I know it can feel like some of your courses are a bunch of bull, but a degree is useful for moving up in the ranks of law enforcement."

"I never told you I wanted to go into law enforcement," I say, cocking my head.

"You're a natural. It shows in your essays. You could go far. You have so much raw talent, Amanda, and I can't you waste it."

"Thank you," I say, honestly, and pride fills me.

The one professor that I respect, the one course in school that I care about, and I am getting the highest sort of praise.

His hand slowly moves down from my hair to my neck, resting above my turtleneck and stroking my skin.

His touch makes me shiver in desire. He leans down.

"Next class you're going to wear a skirt with no panties," he whispers in my ear, and a little moan escapes my lips.

"I can do that, sir," I respond.

He kisses my ear, and then nips my earlobe lightly.

"During break, you're going to come to my office. I'm going to bend you over my desk and spank you hard."

I turn my head and look up at him with shock.

"But I haven't broken any rules!"

He strokes my cheek, his eyes staring into mine.

"This is all for my pleasure."

My nipples harden painfully at his words. I tremble.

He can punish me just because he wants to see my ass turn red and hear my moans of pain and lust. How did I let him get so much power over me so quickly?

"Yes, sir."

I want to be punished so fucking bad.

I already know what I'm going to wear.

A plaid skirt way too high, pigtails and red lipstick.

I'm going to be his slutty little fantasy.

He kisses me, deeply and slowly, full of affection.

Then he breaks it off and my phone buzzes in my pocket.

It's after nine, and Shelly is texting me wondering where I am. I don't want to leave, but it feels way too soon to ask to stay over.

"Can you call me a cab?"

"Sure," he says, leaving my side and pulling out his phone.

He calls me a cab and we sit there for a moment. The house is beautiful and huge around me.

"You have such a nice house," I say.

"Thank you," says Cole. "It's a little big for one person, but the study is what makes it worth it. I get so much done in there."

The phone rings, signaling that the cab is here. He leads me to the front hall, and helps me get my coat on.

He presses a button to open the gate for the cab, letting it drive up the winding driveway.

"Next time you come over, let me buzz the cab in so you don't have to walk."

Next time. I like the sound of that.

He opens the door to the cab for me, and as the cab drives down the long driveway I look back to see him watching me leave.

I can barely believe what just happened.

As the cab takes me down the winding road from the rich part of town back to the dorms, it feels like his huge house is a sanctuary, a place for only us.

As we leave the rich part of town, the houses becoming smaller and smaller, the nagging thought keeps whispering in the back of my brain.

How the hell did a professor afford a million dollar house?