Chapter 2
Professor Richards
My steps quickenas I make my way over to The Bordello, my brain swirling with thoughts and scenarios. Even though I’m making my way to a submissive that is bound to meet all my needs, my mind is bombarded by thoughts of that goody-two-shoes. What if she doesn't take the bait? Clenching my hands to my sides, I drive that thought out. She has to. If she doesn’t, what am I going to do?
John won’t let me take her. He’d probably kill me for even thinking about it. Pausing, I wished it were just hyperbole. No one’s ever broken the rules with such flagrant disregard, so there’s nothing to look back on as a paragon of how discipline would work. More than likely, the dominants know they have a good thing, and no one is stupid enough to jeopardize it.
She's doing okay in class. Honestly, for how difficult it is, she's actually in the top twenty. Not that she realizes that. Most students are happy to get by with a D. In their case, D means diploma. Not for Melody, though. Every time she makes anything less than an A, her face crumples in the most adorable manner. My cock twitches as I recall the last time I handed her a failing paper face up. Her eyes shone with barely concealed tears. It must have taken everything in her to not let them fall. I just have to manipulate her. Make her feel as if there are no other options.
A grin passes across my lips as I start moving again. Once I post the most recent grades, she’ll for sure feel desperate. There's no way she won't take the bait. If I can read her like I think I can, it's a matter of how and not if. That foreign sense of giddiness climbs up my spine as I contemplate all the ways she’d possibly do it.
Before too long, The Bordello, or as the regular students know it, Chi Sigma Delta, looms up before me. Time to stop musing about a might be and concentrate on the flesh and blood submissive about to bring me much-needed relief. Crossing the threshold, I yank off my tie and slip on one of the mandatory masks sitting in a bowl by the door. Concealed as The Society demands, I exit the foyer and walk into the house proper.
Massive columns rise up, the pale white glinting in the soft, twinkling lights. From the immediate visuals, a casual stranger would think it was a normal sorority. However, the structure is the only thing that they have in common. Decadent silks and fabrics cover the walls, giving the space a soft, intimate look. The furniture, more luxurious than any normal college student could afford, decorates the space with tassels dipped in gold.
Even the structure of the furniture is abnormal. There are no normal couches or seats. Instead, each lounging area is designed with sex in mind. Lifting up the tassels reveals tie-down points and O rings. There are no backs to the seating areas. Instead, they swoop and dip, allowing the girls the ability to lounge, but also the dominants to put them over a curve and bury themselves deep within their folds with whatever member they chose.
A few girls lounge about on chaises and sofas wearing nothing but teddies and robes. If anyone else wandered into here, they'd think they stumbled across a porn set. Chuckling, I pull out my phone and recheck Jessica's room number.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make it up to the second floor with fluid ease. Knocking once, I wrap my fingers around the handle for a moment, waiting for the tell-tell click of the lock once it registers my fingerprints. Once confirmed, I open the door and ease my way inside. The stark white of the room is such a difference from the warmth downstairs, but it keeps everything even. Every room is exactly the same in The Bordello, ensuring everyone knows where things are. There's no guessing or fumbling about.
Looking down at the floor in front of the bed, Jessica waits for me, her body kneeling graceful and poised, just how she's trained to be. Her head is bowed, demure, her red hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. What happened to the “break me”? A shard of disappointment flashes through me. I was really hoping for a challenge, something to drag my mind away from my little mouse. Instead, here she is, the picture of submission. No matter. I can still get my rocks off, even if her disobedience would have given me just that extra edge of excitement.
"Display yourself."
Did I imagine it, or did she actually chuckle? My eyes never leave her body as she rises up from the floor in one graceful move. Her hands clasp behind her head as she tilts it back before spreading her legs apart. Glancing down, I see fiery red hair in a perfect landing strip trailing down her slit.
"I told you to be completely shaven," I growl, tugging at the buttons of my shirt.
"You did, Professor." Her lips tilt up in a smirk.
So that's how she's going to play it. Good. Today will be exciting after all.
In a step or two, I’m behind her, winding my hands through her thick, crimson mane, delighted when she lets out a throaty moan. Weaving my fingers tighter, I tug on her hair until her face is forced to meet my gaze. Bright green eyes stare at me, attempting a lack of guile, but I’m not fooled. For a moment, instead of her eyes, bright blue ones look back at me, tears already gathering in the corners. Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to the girl in front of me. Her grin splits her face from ear to ear.
Silently, we walk over to the bathroom, her body trailing behind mine for a few paces. The cold, white tile shows up almost clinical under the bright, fluorescent lights. In the shower, I spy the four sets of cuffs and smirk as I drag her over to them. The shower floor is flat, in line with the rest of the tile, with only a small dip inward to let the water drain down.
“On your knees.”
Her lips tilt up just a fraction as she looks at me, her body motionless.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me?”
Again, no movement. So be it. My fingers reach out and tighten around her throat. Her pulse beats a frantic refrain against my thumb: it echoes the pulse in my cock. A growl erupts from my throat as I slam her into the wall, not hard enough to harm her but enough to arrest her breath.
I crook my leg behind her knee and drag her down to the floor. Her small frame explodes into movement as she fights me with all her power. I overshadow her by a good four or five inches, but this hellcat doesn’t care. Her fingers curve like talons and slice at me with a fervor that’s not just playful fighting. The steel of her muscles twist and strain as she bucks and writhes beneath me. Delicious. Grabbing her hair again, I tug hard, forcing her gaze to meet mine.
“Settle, or it will be much worse for you. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Her chin juts up in defiance, an icy smile crossing her lips. Chuckling, I drag one of her hands to the awaiting cuff and then the other. Once her upper body is restrained, Jessica starts kicking out more forcibly with her legs, almost catching me as I make my way down her body. I pry my way in between the thrashing limbs, grabbing them in my arms. On what feels like instinct, she curls them around my back, forcing me in even closer. The minx thinks she controls this situation. I can wait to strip her of that notion.
Her skin is soft and smooth as I skim my palms up her thighs. Pausing a moment, I look at her face before raising both hands and slamming them down on her inner thighs. A yelp escapes without her permission, as I watch the play of emotions on her face while she tries swallowing the discomfort.
Reaching around my back, I grab one ankle, then the other, bowing back against the strength of her thighs encircling my waist. Her kicks resume, but I ignore them. Each little flutter bounces off of me, my brain barely registering the sensation as discomfort. Try as she might, she’s not getting out of this.
I release one leg and instead turn the shower on to her. It splashes both of us, but most of the stream hits her face. For me, it’s refreshing. The cold water invigorates me; however, it’s doing the complete opposite for Jessica. She shrieks as the water pounds against her face. Even turning her head to the side offers little relief. Rivulets of water sluice off the side of her cheek and into her mouth.
I keep a sharp eye on her as she coughs and sputters, ensuring she doesn’t actually choke. With her mostly subdued, I proceed to take both ankles and shackle them into place. Leaning back on my heels, I stare at the wet goddess before me. She’s a vision. The water gathers at her throat and slides down in between her breasts and further down her toned stomach to slide on either side of her hips. She is my own personal fountain. Struggling makes it even better. Her breasts bounce about as she twists and turns. Amused, I sit there for a moment and watch her, letting her feel the enormity of the power I hold in my hands.
I wait a few minutes before taking pity on her. The bucking slows as she lies there, forcing herself to remain calm. Nodding, I reach over and turn the water off, giving her a few moments to sputter about.
“Are you done?”
Reaching in between her thighs, I slide my fingers up and down her wet slit. Oh, she’s more than done. A satisfied smile curls up my lips as I delve into her hot wetness. Jessica’s breath goes from soft and controlled to haggard in an instant. Letting myself play for just a moment, I drag my fingers up to her apex and tap on her most sensitive area. Already her clit is peeking out of its shaft, just begging for my caress. Well, it will have to just wait and beg. Sliding up further, my fingers flick at the soft curls at her mound. Jessica’s moans stop, and she twists and angles her body so that she can look at me. I pause for a moment, letting her think about her actions and try to suss out mine. But she has absolutely no idea what I have in store for her this afternoon. If she did, she would have been a good girl and obeyed me. Instead, she will have to atone for her actions. I can admire her spirit, but a “break me” will always be broken.
In one swift move, I tug at the hair, my eyes never leaving hers. Even now, her gaze widens as the pain spreads through her. She finally understands that I mean business. Good. Now we can begin.
Standing up, I smirk down at my prize before glancing around the bathroom. The wax pot sitting near the sink glows, indicating it is on and ready for use. Perfect. I step over Jessica to head out and barely miss tripping on her leg as she begins her thrashing anew. This will not do at all.