by S K Quinn
Her eyes find the cane next – a perfect, swishy teacher’s cane made of bamboo.
Sophia stares at that for a long time, clearly a little afraid.
But fear is a part of all of this.
Fear. Pain. Humiliation. And then eventually, pleasure.
‘What’s that for?’ she asks, her eyes still fixed on the cane.
‘You’ll speak when you’re spoken to.’ I turn her around.
‘Marc—’
Christ.
I put my lips to her ear. ‘You can stop any time,’ I whisper, closing the door. ‘Just tell me. But you wanted to know me. All of me. The dark side.’
She doesn’t reply – probably her mouth is dry with fear. But she wants this. She wants to explore.
I push her to the shelves with force. To show her I’m in charge. She can still back out. It’s not too late. But she softens under me.
I tie her hands, then pull the rope through the eyelets.
This is the first time I’ve ever tied up a pupil. I can say that for myself at least. I may have done unspeakable things with women, but I have never fucked a student in the stationery cupboard.
Sophia’s hands lift high into the air, and my heart races. I finish tying her in place.
Then I stand back and admire her.
If I thought she was beautiful before, it’s nothing to how she looks now – arms tied above her head.
For a moment, I am mesmerised.
I want to swear my undying love for her right there and then. The words almost leap out of my mouth. But I shake them away. Ridiculous. Let’s not confuse the poor girl any more.
I pull Sophia’s leggings down, exposing firm, white buttocks. I could have guessed she’d be pale under her panties. She’s not the sort of girl who’d lie naked in the garden trying to get a suntan.
My hand moves in circles on her buttocks, willing her to respond to me. I feel her leaning into the ropes.
‘Well done,’ I tell her. ‘No underwear.’
Her jumper keeps falling down over her buttocks, so I push it up and tie it in a knot.
I pick up the cane, watching her eyes follow it.
The showman in me takes over, and I flex the cane in my fingers and swish it through the air.
Sophia doesn’t take her eyes off the cane until I rub it over her buttocks. Then her head drops forwards and her breathing gets faster.
I tease her a little, rubbing back and forth.
‘Are you going to hit me?’ she stammers.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Maybe. But not hard.’
I look at the cane. I look at her. Then I bring the hard stick hurtling towards her buttocks. But at the last moment I stop, so the cane hangs in mid-air inches from her bare skin.
She moans and leans forwards.
Christ.
I’m going to tease her until she can hardly stand. She’ll be begging me …
I put the cane down. ‘Wait here.’
‘You’re going to leave me here?’
‘I have a class to teach.’
‘What? You’re going to leave me in here when you’re teaching a class?’
‘Yes. So you’d better be quiet.’
I leave the room, swinging the door tight shut.
51
Out in the classroom, I hardly even need to take a breath. My control these days is so absolute.
I simply stride out and teach the class. I talk about presence and grit and determination. And emotional openness – all while having Sophia tied up half-naked in the stationery cupboard.
This is the sort of man I am.
I told Sophia to stay away. But she wanted to see all of me.
The class, as usual, hang on my every word. They’re right too – I know what I’m talking about. That isn’t arrogance. I’ve been in the business since childhood. Acting is in my blood.
I tell the class to write a scene demonstrating emotional openness. Then I slip back into the stationery cupboard.
‘What are you doing?’ Sophia whispers. ‘The whole class is out there.’
‘Be quiet.’ I pick up the cane.
I watch it for a moment, wondering how owning one slim piece of wood can say so much about a person.
Whack.
I hit Sophia’s buttocks, getting the balance just right. Not too hard so as to be heard outside. But hard enough to leave a beautiful line.
Sophia lets out a gasp and squirms against the ropes. I see her eyes squeeze closed and her lips press together.
Good girl.
If she’d have made a sound, I’d have had to stop.
Whack, whack, whack.
Sophia sways in the ropes, still pressing her lips tight together.
God!
What this is doing to me …
And we’ve only just started.
I’ve never felt this way before. And she’s a pupil … a fucking pupil …
I slide my hands between her legs, finding the place that makes even the most headstrong woman beg me to fuck her.
Sophia freezes, her eyelids softening.
I move my fingers inside of her and out again, around and around.
‘Don’t do that,’ she whispers. ‘Please. I can’t bear it.’
That’s the idea.
‘Open your legs,’ I tell her, pushing the cane between her thighs and moving it back and forth to pry her open.
‘But the class are outside,’ she whispers.
‘Do as you’re told.’
She moves her feet apart, as I knew she would.
‘Now bend over the desk.’
She bends forwards, and I’m suddenly mesmerised by her body, bound to the shelves, wrists pulling against the ropes.
Mine. All mine.
And you will do as you’re told. But this has to end. You know it has to end …
I slide the cane up and inside her – right inside. Then I move it slowly in and out. I’m being kind. I could have rubbed the cane the other way, where’s she’s most sensitive, and made her come in a second.
I watch the cane. I watch her. This is probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen – her pleasure building up like this. While she’s all tied up and vulnerable.
God!
I didn’t expect to feel so … so …
It’s not like with the others. Of course I cared about them, in my own way. I looked after them as best I could. Never lied to them. They knew from the start exactly what I was and what I could offer.
A few thought they could change me, but they quickly realised they couldn’t.
Yet this girl …
I love her.
52
It’s too much.
I throw the cane on the desk and walk out of the cupboard, slamming the door closed behind me.
Out in the classroom, I run a hand through my hair and pace in front of the board.
‘Times up,’ I snap, watching anxious faces look up at me. ‘If I give you too long, you’ll over think things. I want raw emotion. Whatever you’ve got now is going to be pretty raw.’
True.
I’m a firm believer in adlibbing.
I pull down the projection screen.
‘We’re going to watch a movie for the rest of the class. And next week you can tell me what you make of it. The emotional honesty here is incredible.’
I put on The Piano and walk back into the cupboard.
For one crazy moment, I want to untie Sophia and take her in my arms. Carefully dress her, rub her wrists, sit her on my lap …
But that would ruin this nice tension I’m building up.
I rub her buttocks with a flat palm.
‘Do you want me to fuck you now?’ I whisper.
‘Yes.’
‘Spread your legs again.’
She does, and I move right behind her – my hardness pressing against her backside.
Oh god that feels good. Inhumanly good. To be against her skin like this.
I close my eyes, alm
ost in pain. For a moment I think I might lose it. Actually lose it and just fuck her like a normal person, kissing her hair and whispering ‘I love you’ into her ear.
But that can never be. I am not that person.
I slide my fingers inside of her, my eyes fixed on the side of her face – a silent warning not to make a sound. I can tell she’s finding it hard.
I begin to rock her back and forth against my fingers, my other hand clasping her body tight to me.
She is so open. I can see everything in her eyes – her pleasure, her fear … everything.
I can tell she’s about to come and I don’t want her to. Not yet.
I step back and slide my hands in my pockets.
‘Don’t stop,’ she murmurs. ‘Please don’t stop.’
I have to stop. Or you’ll come already. And that would ruin everything.
I head back into the classroom.
A few students jump as I slam the stationery cupboard door closed.
‘Class dismissed,’ I say, flicking off the projection unit. ‘We’ll talk about the movie next time.’
I watch the class blink and stretch, pushing books and papers into bags.
My arms folded, I wait as they clatter out of the classroom.
A few say, ‘Thank you Mr Blackwell.’
I give a cordial nod. I dislike pleasantries in the classroom. I’m here to teach, they’re here to listen.
The classroom empties and there’s a heavy silence. I can feel Sophia’s frantic heartbeat through the walls. Sense how desperate she is for me to return.
That’s why I wait a few more minutes. The longer the tension, the better the pay off.
I think about Sophia and what I’m doing to her. But more than that … what she’s doing to me. I hadn’t expected her to get to me like this.
Light and dark.
How could anyone possibly see light in me? But she does. And for some silly reason, my heart aches to think of it.
I thought I was past all this. I thought I was past real feelings that grab your chest and squeeze you until you can’t breathe. Fear, heartache … love.
No, those feelings aren’t for me. That’s why I’ve taken this road. This road of total control.
When the tension is heavy enough, I head back into the cupboard.
‘Light and dark,’ I murmur, picking up the cane, flexing it between my fingers.
Oh Sophia, Sophia. What are you doing to me? Why am I having these thoughts now? These thoughts of caring for you and protecting you, when I’ve just strung you up …
I close my eyes, and when I open them I’m me again. Cold, hard Marc Blackwell who has to be in control at all times. At all costs.
‘I’m going to fuck you now,’ I say. ‘And I want absolute silence, or I’ll stop. Do you understand?’
‘What? Honestly, Marc – I’m not sure I can.’
‘Put this in your mouth.’ I put the cane in front of her face. ‘Do as you’re told. Open your mouth.’
Her bottom lip drops down and I fit the cane between her teeth.
‘Now bite down. Open your legs.’ I move her legs apart and force my body between her thighs.
My head snaps back and I close my eyes. ‘Oh god, do you know how hard it is to be controlled around you?’
I’m so rock hard. It’s almost like being sixteen again – on the very edge of self-control.
Thank god I put the cane in her mouth. If she made a sound right now, I’d come as soon as I was inside her.
‘Knowing you were in here, ready and waiting for me,’ I tell her. ‘I nearly ripped open the door and fucked you with everyone listening. I thought I could control myself, but it’s dangerous with you.’
I put on a condom and position myself against her, moving inside just a little.
God.
This closeness.
Something inside me opens when I’m touching her like this.
53
Friends have told me about women they’ve been in love with. How no other woman would do. That it’s not just a physical thing, it’s something in the soul.
That’s what Sophia is doing to me. She’s touching my soul. And it’s beautiful.
I slide further inside, barely holding back a groan.
As I do, I move my hand around to rub between her legs
I know this must be ever so slightly painful for her. Although she’s ready for me, it’s a tight fit.
I push further inside. Further. Further. Frowning as I watch her struggling to stay quiet.
I begin to move my hips, slow at first and then faster and faster.
Her lips clamp tight around the cane and I love watching her struggling to stay in control.
When she lets go, it’s going to be the most beautiful thing.
For a moment, I wonder what would happen if I let go too.
But no.
That can’t happen. That will never happen again.
I move harder and faster now, with determination. It’s getting easier. I’m remembering how to stay in control. Forgetting what it felt like when I first entered her.
Her breathing gets faster and faster and her body pulls hard against the ropes.
I know her wrists will be hurting. And between her legs will be hurting too. But it’s all part of the game, and when she comes she’ll understand.
Pleasure is pain and pain is pleasure. One intensifies the other. In my world – the world she wanted to see – there must be both.
As I begin to pound harder, moving all the way inside, she tries to wriggle away. But I won’t let her. She has to feel this. All of this. She’ll understand when she comes.
I pull her back so I go deep, deep inside her and I can tell she would cry out with pleasure if it wasn’t for the cane.
She comes then, falling limp against the ropes and letting me sink deep inside her.
I want to come so badly that it’s almost unbearable. I am seconds away from it, actually. Especially as she starts to throb around me. But I pull out just in time, breathing hard.
I hold her body, gently untying the ropes and helping her arms down.
For a moment, I let her lay against me, soft and heavy, breathing gently.
I want to stay like this a long time. Watching her. But we can’t do that. So I help her to her feet and begin to dress her.
‘Didn’t you come?’ she asks.
I shake my head.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m already losing too much control around you. If I were to come … who knows where this would end. I’m barely holding it together as it is.’
‘What’s so bad about you losing control?’
‘Everything.’
54
Everything.
If I lose control, I will hurt the people I care about.
If I lose control, nobody will be safe.
Not me, not you, not anybody.
But now I know that isn’t true.
I finally lost control with Sophia. And it was beautiful.
I think back to hours earlier, when I threw stones at Sophia’s window and climbed up to her balcony.
I was so afraid. I thought she might have decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. The press, the judgement of her fellow students … I thought she might decide to walk away from me.
So I had to see her. I thought it might be for the last time …
55
I throw gritty stones at Sophia’s window. Then I wait.
Sophia’s balcony doors open, and she steps out into the night.
She’s wearing her pyjamas and couldn’t look more perfect.
I drop the rest of my stones.
Sophia looks down and sees me in the moonlight.
‘Marc?’ she whispers.
‘Sophia.’
‘What are you doing here?’ she says. ‘How did you get in without being seen?’
‘I have my ways. I’m coming up.’
I climb the drainpipe and within seconds I’m on Sophia’s balcony, inche
s from her, my heart pounding.
‘Romeo, Romeo,’ she smiles.
‘It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’ I stroke her cheek. ‘It’s too cold out here for you.’
I pick her up and carry her inside, closing the door behind us and realising this might be the last time I ever hold her. I love how she feels in my arms.
‘I missed you,’ I tell her.
‘I missed you too.’
I lay her gently on the bed, then lie beside her.
She puts a hand to her cheek as she props herself up.
‘Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand,’ I murmur. ‘That I might touch that cheek.’
She smiles.
‘I thought if things are going to end,’ I say, ‘they couldn’t end without me seeing you one last time.’
‘Who says they’re going to end?’ she says.
‘I just had a hunch that you might decide the challenges aren’t worth it.’
‘Maybe it’s you who’s had enough of me.’
‘Never.’
I kiss her, feeling the unbearable tenderness of her lips. This could be the last time I feel her lips too.
I undress her slowly, my eyes on hers.
Intimacy. Real intimacy. This is what it feels like.
Without speaking, I climb on top of her.
It’s not like the other times. I’m not teasing or controlling or having her submit to me. I am just being close.
I run my fingers up and down her body, wanting to feel every bit of her. I move inside her, but softly and gently. There is no rush. No end game. I just want our bodies to be together.
‘I want to let go now,’ I tell her. ‘I want to let go with you.’
‘You can,’ she says. ‘I want you to. It’s what I want more than anything.’
I keep moving, and as I get near to coming I feel afraid. But this could be my last time with her. This could be my last chance to let go.
So I do.
I look into Sophia’s eyes the whole time. And I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
Our arms and legs wrap around each other and for the first time in my life I am free.
Why was I so afraid?
I have no idea.
We are made for one another.
‘I need to know,’ I say. ‘Are we going to do this? Or am I going to have to get over you?’
