Teacher's Toy (Loftry University Playthings 1)

I shudder but remain still. Professor Richards’ breathing slows to a soothing cadence, enticing me to join the rhythm. Letting go, he picks the rod up from the desk and swooshes it a few times next to me. The sound alone makes my body clench with terror and need.

"You will start with question one. Read the question aloud, then the answer. Once you gather yourself, you will continue with the next and so on until the entire test is done."

"Yes, Sir." I take a deep breath and read the first question. Pausing, I wait for something to happen but continue with the answer when he remains motionless behind me. The moment the answer leaves my lips, a line of fire blazes against my ass. Shrieking, I pull up on the desk, pulling my ass away from the pain. My feet hop around in place as my brain tries to make sense of what's happening.

"I said no dancing around. I guess that means you have to start over."

Whimpering, I plant my feet in place and breathe deep, trying to get more oxygen into my body. My voice warbles as I repeat the question, bracing for the pain. The fire strikes again, this time underneath the first one. I grab onto the desk and will my feet not to move.

"Good girl. I knew you were a quick study. Continue."

I read the second question, holding my breath as the next line lays down below the first two. Tears slide down my cheeks and plop onto the paper, blurring the words a bit. On and on, we go until I've read through the entire test. Sobs wrack my body as I get to the last question. With gulping breaths, I read it, then the answer, wailing as the final stroke is laid down.

With a loud clatter, Professor Richards tosses the rod down on the desk and gathers me into his arms, taking care to keep my skirt high above my ass and thighs. "That's it," he says into my hair as he holds me close. “That's my good girl. Let it all out."

My entire being breaks down at that moment. Everything comes crashing through: my parents, my life, my dreams, my goals, even my failures. All of it comes pouring out of me as I sob into his shirt. We stay like that for several minutes, me soaking his shirt and him rubbing circles on my back as his voice soothes me. Hiccuping just a bit, I sniffle and pull back, eyeing the mess I've made. With frantic motions, I try rubbing my tears from his shirt, but he gently gathers my wrists into his grasp and tilts my chin up to look at him.

"Leave it. Trust me, I have several more for such an occasion."

My mind races back to the girl with the streaming mascara that left his not that long ago. Was she crying for the same reason? Shaking my head, I push back on his chest. Just because he owns me doesn't mean he owes me anything. I'm not foolish enough to think being my Master is the same as being in a relationship with me. And yet, there’s something in his gaze, something that makes my heart squeeze and my stomach flop. The pain and relief mingle together into a jumble of feelings I can name. His eyes are warm for the first time since I’ve known him. Could he be feeling the same for me as I do for him?

He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from my face, his fingers slow and hesitant. Continuing to stare at me, he lets his fingers wander but says nothing. My heart pounds so loud I’m surprised he can’t hear it. He pulls back from me, the warmth from his eyes disappearing as if it was never there. I blink up at him, my brain trying to decide if what I saw was real or just a figment of my imagination.

"I'll let your teachers know that you're going to be out of commission for the rest of the day. However," his fingers grip my chin and force my gaze up, "whatever they assign you as makeup work, you will complete with no exceptions. Bend back over the desk."

There it is, that cold persona I’ve become used to. I whimper and clutch his shirt, not sure I can take any more pain today. Chuckling, he leads me over and lays me completely flat against the desk. After shuffling around for a moment, he comes back and spreads my legs apart, breathing cooling breaths on the fiery lines. The burn flares up for a brief moment before lulling into a dull burn. Cool liquid touches my skin, and I jerk forward into the desk. His hands soothe and stroke, sending the cooling relief through me.

"Arnica gel will help the worst of it, but you still might not want to sleep on your back for the next few nights."

Who is he kidding? I won't even want to wear clothes again, ever. Trying my best to stay still, I let the soothing gel seep into my body. I keep my breathing even and calm. That is until his other fingers dance along my clit. I squirm as his fingers pluck and pull, teasing me until I start to whimper and buck against his hand.

"So wet. I'm beginning to think you like the pain I dole out, my mouse."

My body warms at his words. He's not exactly right, but then he's not completely wrong either. Arching my ass, I slide my feet apart as far as the underwear will let me go. His smack is gentle this time, but it still sends fire racing through my ass and into my brain. The heat morphs and twists through me, adding to my heightened arousal. Moaning, I keep arching back, letting his smacks send me higher and higher. Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving me to chase after his hand with my hips. His chuckle fans my ear before his tongue snakes out to lick the shell.

"Go back to your dorm and rest, Mouse. I'll attend to you later."

It takes every ounce to not pout at him as I stand up and pull my underwear back up. Lighting shoots through the marks on my backside as I shift the material back into place. Groaning, I ease my skirt back down, the rough material skittering across me.

"You'd do well to not let your skirt fly up if you don't want others knowing what just happened to you."

Professor Richards smirks at me as he busies himself with putting the tools away. Taking that as my cue to leave, I hold my skirt at my side as I make my way through the door. Looking up, I spot Chase down the hall, having an animated discussion with Chelsea. Gulping a bit, I hover in the doorway, watching the two. Do I really want another run-in with her? Professor Richards’ firm chest grazes my back. "This isn't your dorm, Darling. Are you that anxious for another round with the cane?"

Whipping my head back and forth, I cross over the threshold and out into the throng. Chase notices me immediately and gives me a huge grin. My heart flip flops for a moment as memories flood my brain. Us walking to class, braving the cold. He's so nice and safe. My stomach twists as he waves at me. We never had the chance to even see where things would go. It tugs at my heart for a moment, but I can’t even muster the same level of arousal I had for him back then, and even that wasn’t a lot. Whether I just truly don’t think of him in that way, or my blazing backside won’t allow me to think of anyone other than Professor Richards, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve ruined any possible chance of seeing if anything would spark between us, or anyone else for that matter.

Chelsea looks up at him and back to me, her features twisting up. Great, maybe she thinks I'm trying to take him, too. I can't win with her. I shuffle past, trying not to make eye contact. The last thing I need is her running off to tell wild stories.

"Hey Mel, wait up!" He pushes off the wall, leaving Chelsea there as he chases after me. Great, if we weren't enemies before, I'm fairly sure we are now.

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