Chapter 7
Professor Richards
She saysnothing as I lead her out of the building, the silence becoming deafening. Hopefully, she’s not going into shock. The sharp wind makes her snuggle deep into her clothes, but she remains silent as we take a roundabout stroll to Bradley's office.
I want to give her a chance to talk about what happened before turning her world upside down again, but she remains quiet. Tucking the papers into my armpit, I jam my hands into my pockets before casting furtive glances over at her huddled form. Hopefully, she'll get out of my system in a few days. I can't start caring about her. I have too much at stake, too much to do. A woman only weighs you down. However, while I do have her, I plan to make the most of it. I'm deep in thought, planning out everything I want to subject her to. How much would be too much to push right away? It's been so long since I've had such a green girl. My tastes aren't nearly the most sadistic out there, but I can become most creative if pushed.
It's not until we reach the building that I realize how far we've walked in silence. As we step up to the door, I turn Melody around to look at her face. Tracks of tears mar the delicate surface, but nothing else seems amiss. Unable to resist, I stroke her cheek and skim my fingers across her bottom lip. She opens up, almost as if it's instinctual, and prods at my fingertips with her tongue. She might be new, but she seems to be a complete natural. My balls tighten in response, demanding I take care of matters, and soon. I plan to but soon won't come soon enough. Glancing around to make sure no one sees us, I grab Melody's arm and lead her through the back entrance of the school clinic.
Through this way, we have our own hallways and waiting rooms. No student or faculty that's not a part of our society knows that these rooms are even back here. Everything is so artfully camouflaged. That's one more thing I have to thank John for. He sat with the architects for months to get this right. I don't know how he spun it, and I don't need to know, but I can certainly reap the benefits. Here, I don't have to put on a show or answer questions about why I'm here with a student. Breathing in a deep breath, I lead her to one of the patient chairs and set her down. Just to be on the safe side, I attach one of the cuffs to her wrist so she can't get away while I'm conferring with Bradley.
Her brows furrow, and she casts me such a spiteful look as the metal encloses her wrist. A quiet chuckle bubbles up inside me, but neither her nor I say anything. At this point, what is there to say, really? I'm not going to apologize for my treatment of her. Hell, I've wanted her in my bed and at my feet since day one. I'm certainly not going to say sorry for her falling so seamlessly into my trap. The choice was ultimately hers. It was always hers. If she made the right choices, she might have been failing the class but on her way to a comparable prospect. Instead, she's now cuffed to a plastic chair, awaiting the most invasive physical she'll ever have to endure. My cock pulses at the delicious thoughts swirling through my head. I've never seen Dr. Bradley at work, but I've heard of his prowess. He's about on par with me when it comes to really humiliating a person, and I can't wait to pick up on some new tricks.
The clock ticks ominously above Melody, and it's the only sound in the room. The thunderous beat even drowns out her shallow breathing. "Let's get through this one last thing, then you'll get packed up and moved into Chi Sigma Delta. After that, you have the initiation." I tousle her hair, a touch of affection flowing through me. "I think you can handle it. It might be scary, and it will definitely hurt at times, but I have complete faith in you."
Her watery eyes stare up at me, and it's like a punch to the gut. Lust and regret intermingle for just a moment until lust finally wins out.
"What makes you think that? You don't even know me." She wraps her arms about her as best she can, turning in her seat so that she can move the cuffed one a bit more freely. "The things you both did to me. I-"
I hunch down in front of her, bringing us eye to eye. "What we did to you, you enjoyed." That faint tinge that I've grown to crave starts inching its way up her neck. "I could see it, smell it, and if I wanted to, taste it. Don't act all high and mighty. You may not understand everything you're feeling, but there's a part of you, somewhere in your heart’s dark recesses, which craves this."
She bites down on her bottom lip and turns her head, avoiding my gaze. Bingo. I knew it wasn't just her body's response. Just like I knew from the moment I saw her in class the first day. There's something about her that wants to be subjected to this, and who am I to deny those needs? Granted, the method of obtaining her wouldn't stand up in a court of law, but luckily, we got that covered, too. Standing up, I grip my fingers in her hair, needing that small moment of reconnection before looking for Bradley.
As I round the final corner, I happen upon a two-way mirror looking directly into his office. That dirty, dirty man. A grin eases across my face as I watch him with another student. She's not one of ours, but with a body like that, she should be. Curves for days and an ass that just doesn't quit. As Bradley palpates her swollen ankle, I lean back and watch him work. Everything about him screams confidence in his craft, but there's also a tenderness that belies that tough facade. I've met up with him a few times during ceremonies, but we never had much to say to each other. A small niggle of doubt creeps into my brain. I really hope Melody doesn't prefer his gentler bedside manner over my demanding dominance. Glancing over to the right, I spot a small switch with the words ‘flick up and down for service.’
I bite back a laugh. This is how we let him know we're here? Out of everything that's been tailor-made for this college, this seems the most archaic. Reaching over, I give it a few flicks, fascinated by the small light that blinks over the top of the door. From where he keeps the gurney, there's no way another student would see it unless they were already heading out the door; however, the light is housed in a fluorescent tube, easy enough to dismiss as that type of bulb just being a typical tube. It's actually genius. Without looking at the glass, he gives a small nod and keeps working with the current student. Satisfied, I make my way back to Melody. Excitement flows through me the closer I get. Up until now, I’ve never really had the opportunity to explore medical play. I knew Bradley was really into it, but he was always too busy or not in town. The idea of it fascinates me. Especially how easy it can include a bit of humiliation. I rub my hands together, glee putting a small bounce into my step. It's yet one more way to set Melody off-kilter, and that’s what’s most important.
I want to keep her head reeling and her mind discombobulated. By keeping her on edge, I become that port in the storm that she can cling to. I will be the one that she can depend on to navigate these tumultuous feelings roiling inside her. I step into the room and watch her sitting there. She's not even trying to get away. I was sure that she'd be halfway out the door by now, chair in tow. Instead, she's drawing circles on the floor with her toe. I should be elated. It feels like she finally understands that it's futile to run from me, from us, but there's another small part, the part that likes the fight and the challenge, which doesn't want her so broken yet.
Leaning against the door frame, I call out to her. Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she looks up at me. This definitely won't do. It takes a few steps to get back by her side. Breathing in deep, I'm filled with her musk and that maddening scent of vanilla. "Look at me, Mouse. What's the worst part of all this? I know that brain of yours is racing but talk to me. This really isn't as bad as you're making it out to be."
"I keep telling myself that. Women prostitute themselves all the time. At least I'm getting an education for it."
I wince at the harsh tone of her words. In reality, she's not far off; however, I don't view it the same way as she does. "You're not a prostitute. No one thinks of you that way. It's more like you're meeting a need that few can. You're actually doing us a great service." I swallow the lie as it pours out. We can get what we need from anyone at any time. There's just something exhilarating knowing that this harem exists for us. What she also doesn't know is the power that we wield by having this system in place. Politicians, dignitaries, medical geniuses, men and women in great power avail themselves of our sorority and fraternity. In exchange, we gather secrets and knowledge. Most don't even know how much blackmail material we've gathered, but it's all there in black and white. We can change the nation if we choose to. And we might. A day may come when we call in a favor to one of these higher-ups. But I can't tell her that. Only our most loyal submissives even have a hint at the bigger agenda.