Amanda

My head feels like a hundred tiny little mallets are rapping against my skull.

For a minute I lay in my tiny dorm bed as the noon light invades my room, cursing my hangover.

Then it all comes crashing back to me.

Beer pong. Dancing. Endless shots. Blacking in and out.

I was really mad about something last night, but what?

The room spins as I drag my body into the bathroom.

I can hear Shelly's snores through the door that connects our dorm rooms through the shared bathroom.

She's still sleeping off her booze-filled night so the shower's all mine.

I struggle with the baby-proof cap of the Advil bottle, finally opening it and downing two.

A hot shower is going to do wonders for my hangover.

I turn the shower on and pull myself in, sitting down on the floor and letting the heat wash away last night.

Steam pools around me and my slow brain starts to un-fog.

There was something about last night I'm supposed to remember, but what the hell was it? Oh God, I'm never going to drink again.

Wild nights are fun, but the mornings are agony. Back in high school I could drink as much as I wanted and wake up preppy and ready to go.

It's like the second I went to college I started waking up with a pounding headache.

For five minutes I let the hot water wash over me, my mind blank. Then I remember.

My eyes scrunch up as I remember Shelly crying on my lap.

That bastard - Kellen? Gavin? Kevin?

Something like that, anyway, how dare he send out a picture of Shelly to the whole football team?

What a fucking pig.

A little smile comes to my face as I remember what I did. Sneaking to his car and showing everyone what the guy was really like.

Only... I can remember keying in A, S,

S, H... but then...

Why didn't I finish the whole word? Why did I stop at the H in asshole?

I stand up so fast in the shower I lose my footing and bump my knee against the wall, barely able to stand on my feet as the night coalesces in my mind.

Oh, Fuck.

Professor Cole caught me.

The memories flood over me and my cheeks turn bright red. He caught me at my absolute rock bottom.

And instead of turning me in, he made me admit every dirty fantasy I've had about him.

I rush out of the shower, still dripping as I pull a towel around my body and burst into my room.

The pen! I need the pen!

I see the plain looking pen on my desk and hesitation grips me. I walk towards it slowly, taking it in my hand and returning to my bed where I hide under the covers, still feeling weak from the night before.

This is all too much.

What kind of a professor has James Bond style recording devices?

Who the hell is professor Cole?

I press the top of the pen 4 times, the detail crisp in my mind of last night.

I groan in humiliation as I hear myself admitting everything to him.

I sound like such a slut. How could he ever respect me after last night?

Being blackout drunk in his office, half slurring as I tell him what I want him to do to me?

His voice is intoxicating.

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

The words send a hot, fiery lust through me.

The recording is humiliating but it's like a drug.

I can't stop myself from playing it back over and over again, his dominant, commanding voice making me admit that I want to be his toy.

His plaything.

His little submissive to be dominated and trained.

My hands run over my body. I wish it was Cole's hand as I reach between my legs, feeling how sopping wet he makes me.

My body is filled with pleasure as I listen to his voice. I press my fingers in circles on my clit, unable to stop myself in my need.

He could have done anything he wanted to me last night.

I wish he had. I wish he'd taken me over his desk and spanked me. I wish he'd taken my virginity.

I'm so close, my body full of pent-up lust. It feels so unsatisfying, imagining Cole Russo when I want the real thing.

I moan and squirm, unable to find release and stop, frustrated, my need for him amplified.

He told me he wanted me to prove that I'm serious about submitting to him.

That I have to come to his house if I want to explore this further.

I feel exposed.

I've had a wall up my entire life, molding my personality into what others want to see.

Last night I let my party girl persona run wild.

But now, for the first time, I've admitted exactly what I want.

Professor Cole knows how badly I want to submit to him.

He has complete control. And he told me to be at his house at 7 PM sharp.

I see his jacket in the corner of my room and I put the pen in its pocket so there's no chance anyone will accidentally play the recording.

Then I retreat to the safety of my bed.

I can't handle this right now, not with my head still pounding mutely from last night.

The Advil put little socks on the miniature mallets batting on my brain, but they are still there, endlessly pounding.

I set my alarm for 5:30 PM and pull the covers up, wanting to melt away into my bed and have everything go away.

It's too scary.

He told me he wouldn't report me to the Dean.

I managed to wriggle my way out of another tight situation, but I feel like I've wriggled my way into unfamiliar territory.

All I have to do is turn off my alarm, fall asleep, and forget last night ever happened.

I'll go to his class and sit in the back, hiding away in sweatpants and a big baggy hoody.

I'll be so ashamed I won't be able to make eye contact with him again, but I won't get kicked out of the College.

Cole didn't report me to the dean. I managed to get myself out of another tight spot. This can all go away if I just ignore it.

I bite my lip.

Oh God, but I want him so bad.

I grab my eye-blinder and snuggle up, closing my eyes and doing everything I can to not think of the past or the future.

I try to calm my racing mind.

All I have to do is turn my alarm off, fall asleep, and forget all about this.

I leave the alarm on.