Chapter 48/The Consequences of Desire

Chapter 48: 48/The Consequences of Desire

Chapter 48

Stephanie’s Point of View

I walked behind him through the high school hallways, which felt like endless catacombs at that moment. My heart was thumping in my chest like a drum warning of imminent danger. His wide, steady strides forced me to hurry behind him, my body trembling, as I pressed my fingertips together until they ached.

We reached his office. He opened the door and signaled for me to enter without looking back. I stepped inside with faltering steps, feeling the cold air of the office brush against my face, which was burning with shame and terror. He closed the door behind him; the sound of the lock clicking made me jolt and retreat a step until I bumped into the edge of his wooden desk.

He placed the paper—my drawing of him—slowly on the desk surface, then turned to me, leaning his hands on either side of my body, trapping me in that narrow corner. My breath was hitching, my eyes fixed on his shirt collar, not daring to raise my gaze to meet his blue eyes.

"Why were you drawing me?" he asked in a low tone that shook my core.

"I... I..." I said in a voice barely audible.

"You what?" he interrupted in a husky, insistent voice.

I couldn’t get the letters out; my lower lip began to tremble violently. I was not good at lying or finding a way out of my predicament, and I felt the heat of embarrassment coating my neck and rising to my face. "I..." I said again, lost.

"You drew me. Why? Answer me!" he said, stepping closer until I felt his hot breath dancing on my forehead.

I couldn’t answer; my mouth went completely dry, and I had nothing to say. What would I tell him? That I drew him because I liked him? Because I found him handsome? Because I imagined him kissing me? I felt my knees betraying me as if I were about to collapse at any moment.

"I gave you a chance to explain, but you wasted it," he said in a voice both calm and dangerous. "Now, it’s time for punishment."

I swallowed hard, trying to imagine his punishment. How would he punish me? Would he expel me? Would he call my father? Suddenly, in a move I didn’t expect, his long hand reached toward my hair, stroking it between his fingers with an agonizingly slow pace.

My body stiffened completely, and a violent shiver ran from my scalp to my toes. I was stunned, my eyes widening in total shock, not knowing what he was doing. "What are you doing?" I asked in a shaky, dazed tone.

"You have no right to ask," he replied, slowly winding a strand of my hair around his finger, his blue eyes staring at my lips with terrifying focus.

I felt his breath drawing closer until his masculine scent overwhelmed all my senses, making it impossible for me to think clearly. His other hand was still resting on the desk behind me, trapping me completely, while his fingers continued to fiddle with my hair with a strange tenderness that didn’t match his firm tone.

He lowered his body slightly to become level with my height and whispered in a deep voice that made my heart stop beating: "Turn around."

"What?" I said in a lost tone.

"Turn around, now," he repeated in a commanding tone that brooked no debate.

He stepped back slightly to give me space. I turned around very slowly, my body twitching like a thread in a storm. One question was spinning in my head: What is he going to do to me? I gripped the edge of my school skirt so hard my knuckles turned white from the intensity of the tension.

"You will not move... do you hear me?" he said sternly.

"Yes... as you command," I answered in a choked voice.

Suddenly, I felt the hem of my skirt slowly rising behind me. Damn it, what is this? What is he doing? I wanted to turn, to scream, to ask, but fear and the deep-seated desire to obey him paralyzed my movement.

I felt the cold air hit my backside; I was only wearing my thin underwear. He kept holding the fabric up for some time in a stifling silence, while I stood there, helpless, listening to the pounding of my heart which nearly punctured my chest. I began to imagine the worst; I thought he was going to rape me right here on his desk.

Suddenly, I felt a resounding slap land on my backside with the palm of his strong hand. The shock and pain made me involuntarily arch my back, my body lunging forward so my hands rested on the wooden desk surface, causing my backside to rise more clearly behind me.

Another, stronger slap followed. I felt the heat and pain seeping into my skin like fire. I couldn’t move or even protest; my body was trembling in disbelief. Then came a third slap, and despite the burning pain, I felt something strange invading my being; I was enjoying what he was doing to me, and ecstasy began to seep through the pain.

"Why did you draw me, Stephanie?" he asked in his husky voice, leaning over me.

I didn’t answer, and the response was another violent slap that made me gasp loudly. I was biting my lower lip until I almost made it bleed, letting out muffled moans that were a confusing mix of blatant pain and a deep ecstasy I had never experienced before.

The silence of the office screamed with every strike, as he continued to interrogate me with his body before his tongue.

The echo of the fifth slap resonated through the still office. I felt my skin glowing under his strong hand. My upper body was draped over the desk, my fingers clutching its wooden edges so hard my nails almost left marks.

He leaned over me until I felt his chest touching my back, and whispered in a choked voice near my ear, his hot breath burning my neck:

"Didn’t you hear my question? Why did you draw me, Stephanie? What were you thinking about? Confess!"

I couldn’t take it anymore; my body was shaking under the weight of this mixture of pain and pleasure. "Because... because I couldn’t get you out of my head... Professor, please," I said in a shaky, broken voice amidst my rapid breaths.

I felt his massive hand stroking the place he had just slapped with sudden tenderness, a move that sent a violent shiver down my spine. His other hand gripped my waist firmly, pulling me up until my back was pressed completely against his chest, while my skirt was still raised.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, burying his face in my hair. "Or do you want me to punish you more?"

I closed my eyes tightly, feeling a hot tear escape and slide down my cheek. I didn’t know who I was at that moment; was I the frightened student or the female who suddenly woke up under the hand of her executioner?

I turned my face slightly so my lips were near his jaw and said in a voice barely audible:

"I want you to... to do whatever you wish."

At moment, I felt his body stiffen behind me, as if my words were the fuel that ignited what remained of his self-control. He flipped me around with lightning speed to face him, and I became trapped between the desk and his massive body. His blue eyes were burning with a spark I had never seen before.

He raised his hand and placed his thumb on my lower lip, pressing it slowly while looking deep into my eyes.

"Then, you will bear the consequences of what you asked for, Stephanie... because from this moment on, I will punish you my way."