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Teacher's Toy (Loftry University Playthings 1)

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Chapter 10

Melody


Sitting in the tub,I force myself to relax and let the water do its thing. I’ve already scrubbed off every bit of cum that I know of but knowing my luck, there’s more in some hidden crevice I can’t see or reach. A shudder runs through me as my brain replays the initiation scene. Thank God I never have to do that again. At least I hope not. You can only be initiated once, right?

I keep looking over at the door Professor Richards walked out of, half hoping for and half dreading his return. Ducking down, I hide my body in the spray of the jets, just in case someone else comes in. I drift my fingers through the water, trying to make sense of my life. I never expected much. Hell, I never even expected to get into a college like this, yet, here I am, a fucktoy for the professor. My cheeks grow warm with that thought, arousal churns in my veins. Seems like a perfect match. How many times did I dream about him, lust after him? And now he’s mine.

That should make me happy, but I’m not. My anxiety hasn’t lessened from when he first dragged me out of that classroom. If anything, it’s worse. I keep thinking things will go back to normal, but it’s slowly dawning on me that it won’t. This is my new normal. It’s not like I had much control over my life at home, but here at school, I thought I’d be able to find myself, enjoy my freedom. Instead, I fucked everything up and traded in my dad for a Dom.

“What has you thinking so hard.”

I slam myself under the water even further, peeking out to see who’s in here with me. Professor Richards hunches down, a smirk slashing across his lips. He looks sexy as sin, and he’s every bit my temptations come to life. He fills my brain until all I can think about is him. Hell, I didn’t even realize he came back into the bathroom. This can’t be good.

“I just don’t know what to do now,” I respond, being honest with both of us for once.

“It’s quite simple, really. “You say, ‘yes, Professor.’ That’s all you have to do.”

I mull his words around in my brain. Is it really that simple? Can there really be joy and peace in submission? He holds out his hand for me, and I stare at it for a moment. I don’t want to make him mad, but I don’t want to expose myself to anything else. It’s already been too much to process as it is.

“Obey me, and there won’t be any more punishments. I’m planning on taking you back to your dorm so you can get some proper sleep.”

Do I trust him? I inch my hand out to his, my brain consenting that he’s not a threat for now. Not once in all of this has he said something untrue or gone back on his word. If we really are going to be together for the next foreseeable future, trust has to begin somewhere. Right now, it’s baby steps with me giving him my hand. I can do that much. His firm grasp drives away my anxiety, letting me breathe for the moment. Not even my nakedness bothers me right now.

He pulls me out and starts to towel me off, making sure each area is nice and dry before moving onto the next. The tender moments as he fusses over my bruises warms my heart and sends pinpricks of tears to my eyes. Maybe this won’t be so bad. It can’t all be like today, right? Pulling a robe off the shelf, he swathes me in it before bundling me next to his side and walking me out to the main room. Before we reach the door, he pauses and takes my hand in his, slipping a dark, leather band about my writs before dropping it back to my side. A small, silver piece lays on top, flashing in the light.

“Only take this off when you’re in your room. I suggest you only take it off to shower. This will protect you from others in The Society. The band means you’re one of us; the silver means you’re taken. If you don’t have this band on, no one will protect you. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Professor.” Great, another rule I have to remember.

He pulls open the door and drags me out into the open space. The sight that meets my eyes is not at all what I expected. I’m not a prude by any means, but the pure debauchery shocks my senses. I’m both aroused and repulsed by the blatant fornication happening throughout the room. Knowing that Professor Richards took part in the festivities makes my heart plummet. How could I keep his interest if he has all this?

He doesn’t seem to be phased by it at all as we shuffle away from the horde and out to an awaiting car. Neither of us speaks as it putters to my new home, but what is there to say? I wring my hands, my fingers drifting to my cuticles to pluck at them. Will he stay the night? What happens next? All too soon, we pull up to the grand façade, and still, he says nothing. The driver steps out and opens my door expectantly, but I sit there waiting for some sign from him that it’s okay to leave.

Leaning over, he plants a soft kiss on my forehead. He holds me close for a long moment before giving me a small shove towards the door.

“Get some sleep, Mouse. You’re going to need it.”

With his ominous words in my ear, I stumble back from the car and watch as it speeds away. I could run away. No one’s here to stop me. But then where would I go, especially in nothing but a robe? Looking back at the dorm, I chicken out and make my way inside. Maybe Bethany’s right. If I can suck it up, I won’t have to worry about my grades as much. I’m not on a scholarship anymore. I can study art! The excitement bubbles up inside until I remember that Professor Richards owns me now. I probably have to okay what I study with him.

Shaking my head, I ease my way up the stairs, careful not to disturb the other girls. The plain bed, once stark and uninviting, looks like heaven. Groaning, I latch the door behind me and plop myself into the covers. The thick material swallows me up, cocooning me in its warmth. Safe. For the first time today, my body relaxes. Despite the aches and pains still lingering, my eyes flutter closed until I drift off into a deep sleep.

* * *

A loud trillsounds in my brain, and I groan, reaching out for my phone. It's not on the shelf that I normally put it. Shuffling my hand around, I reach about in the dark until my fingers finally capture my prize. 6:30 am shines up at me, piercing my blurry eyes.

Makeup test in my office at 10:30. Do NOT be late.

I frown at the text message, trying to decipher who it's from. The numbers look foreign to me in my sleep-addled mind. What test? My eyes fly open, and I sit up in the bed. Professor Richards! Everything comes flooding back into my brain so fast it aches for a moment. None of this is a dream. Soft sheets slide about my legs, confirming the reality.

Groaning, I hoist myself over and pad my way into the bathroom. I stand there, looking at my reflection for a moment. Nothing looks too out of place. Besides the dark circles about my eyes, I look the same as I did the night before. Turning, I examine my backside, startled to see only a few thin red stripes marring my skin. For the amount of pain that whip caused, I was expecting something more like gashes and bruises. I grip my ass for a moment where the worst of the pale lines crisscross my skin, trying to get back to that feeling of pain and floating. Unfortunately, it never happens, and I'm stuck there looking like an idiot, pinching and grabbing my skin.

Shuffling myself over to the bed, I set my alarm and go back to sleep. No use coming to his office looking like a complete mess. I close my eyes for what seems like a second, and a loud knock drills into my brain, shooting my eyes open. I stare at the door for a moment, unsure if I should answer or not. Professor Richards went over so many rules with me last night, and I can't seem to remember if any of them included opening doors for strangers. Clutching the sheet to my chest, I inch my way over, jumping each time the knock rings out.

"Yes? Who is it?" I call out as I reach the door. No answer. I flick on the light, flooding my room in a bright, white haze. Wincing, I blink a few times, trying to get my eyes used to the invasion. I call out a few more times before I remember that all rooms are soundproofed. Smacking my forehead, I slide the door open just an inch and peer out. Bethany takes the opening and shoves the door all the way open, putting me a bit off balance. Frantically, I clutch the sheet to my waist and grab at the nearest dresser to keep from landing hard on my ass.

"Girl!" She's breathless as she starts dragging in boxes and bags. "If this had been an inspection, you'd be in a lot of trouble!" Grunting, she hoists another bag into the room, filling the small space to where we can barely even move about. "You always have to answer your door!"



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