Trapped With My Teacher

If I’d been at school this weekend, I would be curled up in my dormitory chatting with my friends, probably complaining about Professor Lakewood as I grumbled my way through his latest assignment. And Tony, he talked about where he would’ve been too. He grinned at me as he said he’d probably be holed up in his house alone doing the same thing. Complaining about his students not living up to their potential, while he graded their papers.

Now here we are. Everything is different between us, a whole world away from our old lives, unable to return, and yet… In danger if we don’t.

I didn’t really get worried until last night. Not until we listened to the radio and I realized I didn’t hear any announcements about us. Nothing about a professor missing from the local university, nothing about a student gone AWOL during her ski trip into the mountains. Surely Daddy has called it in by now. Surely he knows I never made it to the lodge. Doesn’t he?

Still no reception on our phones. And we’re down to the last couple days’ worth of food, by my reckoning. It’s time to start tightening our belts. Cut rations down to half portions to make it last longer.

Time to start facing the possibility that we might be stuck here too long. Longer than we ever dreamt. Longer than we’re prepared for.

As much as I’m not looking forward to returning to school, to sitting in Tony’s classroom every day and pretending I don’t know what it feels like to have him fuck me from behind, his thick cock filling me up as he drives into my tight pussy, growling my name when he loses control and comes inside me… Much as I’ll hate that, I don’t want to die here either.

Tony reassures me. Tells me it’s going to be fine. We have plenty of water, after all, since I showed him how to melt snow. He grins at that like it’s a funny joke. I smile too, going along with it. But I know him well enough by now, after these few days, to see the fear he’s trying to hide from me.

Neither of us is sure what happens next…

9

Daddy’s Girl

Dinner is unseasoned fish, the last of the real supplies. After tonight, we’ll be on a strictly grains and pickled food diet. Neither of us is particularly looking forward to that.

We sit on the couch, huddled for warmth, keeping the fire low to preserve more wood. We have the blanket over our knees, and our plates balanced on top. Neither of us is eating very fast, either. We pick through our bites, one at a time, alternating between gazing into the glowing embers and forcing another mouthful of dry fish into our mouths.

I finish first. Tony takes one look at my plate, then cuts his remaining fish in half and slides the portion onto my plate.

“What about you?” I protest.

“Just eat,” he says by way of an answer. “You need the calories.”

I narrow my eyes. “So do you.”

“It’s not a question,” he replies. He finishes his last bite, then pushes upright, steps into the kitchen to drop off his plate. I scowl after him for a moment, then sigh and finish eating the fish. Not much else I can do.

When he returns to take my plate in for me, I catch his wrist instead. “Why are you so nice to me now,” I ask, “when you were so mean in class?”

He stares at me for a moment. He takes the plate and sets it on the little side table, then sinks back into the seat next to me. I keep my hand around his wrist the whole time. “I told you, Corina. I was just trying to push you to excel.”

I shake my head. I’m tired of that answer. Tired of his half-explanation. Of him dancing around the point. “It was more than that,” I say. “I’ve had professors who were hard on me before. I’ve been given unfair grades before. This wasn’t that. You singled me out, you gave me more shit than anyone else in that classroom. Why? Was it because you were attracted to me?” I catch his eye. Hold it. I’m getting a real answer this time.

He holds my gaze. Tightens his jaw. “It’s not because of that, Corina.”

“Then why?” I demand. “Why did you hate me?”

“I didn’t hate you—”

“Why did you treat me differently than any of your other students, if not because you wanted to fuck me?”

“It has nothing to do with my attraction to you. I don’t let that cloud my judgment.”

“Bullshit.”

He narrows his eyes. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“I think the only answers you’ve given me so far are bullshit, yes. And from where I’m sitting, that’s the only reason I can think of for you to have spent this whole semester treating me like garbage. So, yeah, Tony, I guess it is what I think of you.”