Pleasing The Professor (The Professor's Student Series Book 1)

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Pleasing The Professor (The Professor's Student Series Book 1) Page 7

by Janae Keyes


  I’d been lucky. I’d run out of my birth control I arrived with. I could have just quit, but something told me, I’d need it. Maybe that something was the look I’d seen in Ramsey’s eyes whenever I saw him. I went to the clinic I’d been directed to go to. There’d been a lot of paperwork medical wise when immigrating for school. My NHS card had arrived just in time for me to go to the clinic for a free refill of birth control pills and my other very important medications.

  My reality was, it was finally happening. Ramsey and I had both succumbed to our desires for one another. My legs tight around him as he pounded into me, my tits nearly bouncing out of the tight corset I wore, and the urge to scream his name building inside me.

  “My little bumblebee,” he muttered, I smiled to myself. This had to be the start of something, I felt it between us, it felt so real and so tangible.

  There, I felt it, what would end our moment too fast, an explosion of emotions and ecstasy. I pressed my face to his shoulder, I needed to keep quiet, but with each moment it was getting harder.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh God yes! I was screaming in my mind as I couldn’t out loud.

  “Dora, my Sweet One,” Ramsey grunted between his final thrusts, his dick swelling inside me. “Fuck.” I held on tight, drawing him to me as if he could be closer.

  My eyes closed, breathing shallow, Ramsey allowed my feet to the ground. I leaned onto the brick, trying to make sense of the bliss that still ran through me. It was better than I’d ever imagined it to be with him. I had so much to learn from the Professor.

  At the sound of his zipper, I opened my eyes. Something wasn’t right from the look in his eyes. I swallowed unsure of what to say or do. I knew I wanted his arms around me, but something about that look told me it wasn’t going to happen.

  “This shouldn’t have happened,” he whispered. He shook his head, looking away from me. I wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the words. “What the fuck have I done?”

  With that, he walked away, leaving me in the alley after he’d just given me everything I wanted and left me craving for more. The feelings I had for him weren’t nothing, and they weren’t some mistake.

  I stood in the stillness of the cold night, my fingers on my lips. He’d kissed me, he’d fucked me, he’d shown me what he wanted, and there was more. His eyes told me there was so much more in store for me. How could he think of it as a mistake?

  “Dorothy-Dear!” Simon’s voice called out from the pub.

  “Coming!” I called, swallowing my tears and emotions away. It was time to put on a smiling face. I supposed that’s what I’d be left with, a fake smile and not his arms, or his possible love.

  Thoughts swirled through my mind. Would he acknowledge it or leave me wondering about what could have been? Then the worst thoughts arrived, was I the girl I’d been falsely made out to be at my old school? A slut? A whore?

  Chapter Nine

  Ramsey

  Fuck. That was becoming my mantra. I was fucking everything up. From class, to Dora, to my house. It was littered with beer cans. Ping! My head exploded at the sound of the e-mail coming in from the computer. Why had I not turned off the sound from the bloody thing?

  I must be punishing myself for what I had done to Dora. Deserting her after claiming her so animalisticly. Sinking my head into my hands, I thought of how I could make this up to her. Well, for starters there was the dress and shoes that were apparently arriving today, according to the new e-mail.

  Wandering through the house, I started to pick up cans and put them in the empty boxes. My head hurt like it had been smashed through the gates of Hell over and over again. I deserved it, though. I had run from Dora. I had run from that little bumblebee. From my Sweet One. Throwing the box in my hand across the room, I listened to the cans clatter against the wall.

  Today was going to be one of those days. Popping a few aspirin, I grabbed my thermos and got in my car. I was going to go get something greasy to eat and fill my thermos up. There was a Burger King on the way to campus and this morning was a fast food morning. I was starving, I was hungover, and I would fill my thermos up when I filled the car with petrol.

  I ordered my food and pulled into the nearest petrol station. Grabbing my hash brown bites and thermos, I jogged inside and filled it up before paying for my fuel. I barely looked at the attendant, but she was giving me a pitiful stare as she rung me up. Probably thought I was some poor drunk sap on his way to kill himself, the way I looked. I hadn’t even bothered to tuck my shirt in today.

  When I got to the auditorium, it was blissfully empty and silent. The aspirin was doing its job, and my headache was beginning to subside as I sat in my office and ate. I watched as a shadow walked up to my door. I still had ten minutes until the start of class, and I was going to savor each one of them. I was not in the mood to deal with the class, so I was just going to give them a quiz to assess where they were in their understanding of the literature for the assignments they were supposed to be handing in today.

  Thud! Thud! Thud! “Bloody hell! Just come in already and stop with that infernal pounding!” I yelled at the door angrily. I was ready to fight whoever walked through that threshold. Even Dora would have gotten a lashing right now, and I wanted to fix things with her. Looking at the culprit of the pounding, though, I never expected to see Simon standing in my office, pissed as a captive tiger, and ready to pounce.

  “Good Morn--”

  “Do not ‘good morning’ me, Professor.” Venom laced the last word. I watched him as I would a caged animal. “I know what happened at the pub. You hurt Dorothy-Dear. She cried all weekend before she told me what happened. I had to bring her to class today. To make sure she came because she was so distraught about seeing you again.” I stared at him wide-eyed. He had the power to end me. “Yes, dear professor. I know. I need you to know something else,” I placed my hands in my lap. This man was not the same carefree man who had dressed as Lil’ Kim on Halloween. This man was out for blood.

  “If you ever so much as take one step in malice or discontent toward Dorothy-Dear again, I will hunt you down and fuck you up the ass. Literally.” With that he turned and walked from my office, slamming the door.

  I had never seen him mad, and I decided right then that that was not a sight I cared to see again. Simon was scary when he was pissed.

  Composing myself as much as I possibly could, given my current state of headache and hangover, I left my office and walked down the stairs to the podium and chalkboard. Picking up the chalk, I wrote today’s schedule on the board.

  3 Nov, 2016

  Turn in assignments

  Start reading The Iliad/Odyssey 1984 for next assignment

  Quiz about To Kill a Mockingbird

  Requirements for 1984 Assignment

  1.Read the Damn book in a timely manner!

  2. Compare and contrast 1984 to today’s reality

  3. Proper spelling

  4. 12-point, Times New Roman, single spaced, proper margins and headings!

  5. Due before Christmas break.

  6. Having problems? Create a study group!

  7. Remember: Rough drafts are your friends!

  8. Take Notes. I want you to turn them in this time.

  9. Turn in on time. No excuses. Turn in early if you won’t be here.

  10.Plagiarize your work, and you will get an instant F. I will even fucking polish it for you. DON’T BE A FUCKING QUIB!

  Finally, I turned and looked at the class. In front of me was Dora, head down, hair limp. Pale. She looked how I felt. Beaten, betrayed, destroyed. But, I was the one who had done that to both of us, not her. I had made her look like that, and it made me feel worse. I couldn’t keep seeing her like this. I looked at the clock. We had only been in class for twenty minutes. I put the basket out on the podium and called the class to turn in their essays.

  Dora was the last to turn hers in, walking slowly to the front of the room, not looking at me as she placed her essay in the baske
t. I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, glaring at me.

  “You made yourself clear, Professor,” she spat at me, a tremble to her voice as she turned her back on me. Just like I had done to her a few nights before. My heart ached as I watched her walk away from me, her head down. I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. I knew she wouldn’t allow that today. That I was not allowed to touch her.

  Frustrated I went back to my office, placing the stack of books I had picked up outside the door, and snatching the stack of tests off my desk. “Teresa! Come hand everyone a test. You have until the end of class to complete as much as possible. As you complete your test, drop it in the basket by my office door, and pick up a copy of 1984. You are to read. No talking, no texting, no blasted computers! Once you all have your books, get the fuck out of my classroom.” I knew I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on the class. It wasn’t their fault. But I was pissed, and I couldn’t help it.

  The next two hours passed in blissful silence as I graded the papers that had been turned in, starting with Dora’s. It was amazing. I couldn’t find a flaw with her logic, or with how she presented her arguments and conclusions. She was built to be a writer. It was here. I wrote a giant A+ at the top of her paper and circled it. I paper clipped a note to it for her to come and see me after class. I wanted to see her. I was going to use her paper as an excuse.

  The next batch of essays lacked anything of merit, were boring, and otherwise left me in a worse mood. I began to question why I was even a teacher at that point. I looked at the clock and realized class was over. I opened the door to tell everyone to leave and hand back the essays I had graded, but saw Dora was already gone. I yelled for the class to turn in their tests, and too damn bad if they didn’t finish, I made sure everyone got their new books and left me in solitude.

  I needed a beer. And I needed the afternoon off.

  Back at home after canceling my afternoon class, I sat in the playroom and looked around. It was the cleanest room in my house right now. And it was missing something. I had sofas of different styles, all equipped to have someone tied to. I had chairs; I had bars. I needed more, though. I needed something in here for when Dora needed to be punished. And the curtains on the doors needed to go.

  I pulled the curtains down, letting the light flood the room. Looking across the backyard at the lake, I saw Dora in my mind, walking across the grass, a skimpy bikini hiding nothing from me. I salivated remembering how her pussy felt wrapped around my cock, groaning as I grew instantly hard. Turning to the room, I tried to wipe the image from my mind. Things got worse when I realized what I needed in the room. A St. Andrew’s Cross. Something I could strap Dora to when she wouldn’t stay still, teach her to listen.

  The cross would be perfect. It would spread her for me, and I could face her forward or backward. She would learn. Running up the stairs, I hopped back online and onto my favorite toy site, hoping they would have what I needed.

  And they did. Thankfully. I ordered what I needed, including a few extras; a couple sets of nipple-clips, and something that was new to me, a clit-clip. They all looked fun and like they would be perfect for what I had in mind for the time I cuffed her to the cross. Things were starting to come together.

  The next day Dora’s gift came in the mail while I was at work. It was perfect and looked amazing. I wanted to give the dress and shoes to her right away, but I knew that I couldn’t. Instead, I hoped that I could catch her neighbor, Simon before Dora got home. I also prayed he wouldn’t murder me.

  Walking into the building, I remembered where Dora’s room was and assumed that Simon’s was within a door or two of hers. Taking my chances, I knocked on the door to the left, which was blaring music.

  The music turned off, so I knocked again. “I heard you the first time! Don’t get your bloody knickers in a twist!” came the voice I hoped it was. The door burst open, to find Simon in a Chantilly robe, mismatched fuzzy slippers, a shower cap, and a face mask. I must have been gawking because Simon gave me a giant smile. “This,” he circled his face, “does not just happen. What do you want Ramsey?” He asked as he leaned casually in his doorway.

  “Can I come in? I have a favor. Please?” I begged, hoping I didn’t sound as desperate out loud as I did in my head.

  “Welcome to Olivia’s Palace,” He said, curtseying me into the room.

  I nodded in thanks as I walked by him with my boxes and looked for a place to sit. The room was a makeshift changing room with a bed. There were clothes, make-up, shoes, and even a changing barrier set up. But no chairs other than his bed.

  “Okay, my dear, Professor, what brings you to my room today?” Simon eyed the boxes in my arms.

  “I bought Dora a present. I don’t think that she will take it directly from me right now. I want you to give it to her for me. Just tell her something, but don’t tell her I dropped it off. I left a note inside the box, explaining it all. Please, help me with this Simon. I can’t keep seeing her like this. It’s tearing me apart.” I pleaded.

  “Only because I hate seeing her so upset will I help you. But if you hurt her again, I will own your ass, Ramsey. And it is a cute one.” Simon said, taking the boxes from me, effectively ending our conversation and kicking me out of his room.

  Feeling a little better after my talk with Simon, I left the building, barely managing to miss Dora. I watched her from afar, locking up her bike, walking inside. I hoped she would accept my apology and my present. There was nothing to do but go home and wait for class tomorrow.

  Chapter Ten

  Dora

  There hadn’t been much to remember in the week that passed since Halloween. It was dull and painful. I did the only thing I could … throw myself into my school work. The worst part was seeing Ramsey in class; he looked as shitty as me, if not worse. Oddly, I wanted to hold him. His rough state made it apparent he was also suffering. His hair unkempt like mine and he hadn't even bothered to tuck in his shirt. The put together man I'd met, was only a shadow of himself.

  The lingering idea of going by his office and talking to him kept pestering me, but I fought to ignore it. I didn’t know what was worse to face, my embarrassment or the anger that was roaring inside me. I felt used, partially violated, but the worst part, I wanted more of him. I hated myself for that bit.

  I’d been a wreck after the pub. When I wasn’t typing my essay, I was crying like a child whose goldfish just died. It was only one time, and it shouldn’t have meant that much to me, but from that first kiss, it was as if our souls had fused.

  Simon wouldn’t leave me alone. He’d come by my room on Saturday morning, and when I barely opened the door, he saw my puffy eyes and knew something was up. I hadn’t been able to tell him the whole story until Sunday evening, and he went ballistic. Simon was determined that I went to class and that he would have a few words with Ramsey. There wasn’t any stopping him, so I went with it.

  In class, Ramsey wasn’t himself. He was belligerent and angry. Monday, he went to his office and left the class to care for themselves. The rest of the week wasn’t much different. My heart hurt for him, but he’d been the one to fuck everything up.

  The worst part were the voices in my head. I’d gone through the ridicule of being labeled a slut and a whore. For once, I actually felt like one. I allowed myself to be intimate with a man I had no business with, and I did so without a thought. I was completely wrapped in Ramsey that night, only for him to treat me like a hoe he picked up on the corner. We fucked in an alley all for him to leave me alone. Classy.

  Another long study session at the library was supposed to keep my mind off Ramsey, but he’d kept running through it like a bad dream. From the way that night started, it had to be obvious to both of us where it was going.

  It was wrong, but I needed his hands on my body again, feeling his touch, his dominance.

  I shut my copy of 1984 and stuffed it into my bag. My soul was being tortured by that nigh
t, and it was very apparent he and I would have to face it, either separately or together.

  Stopping at the post office on the way home, I claimed a package that had been waiting for me, from my mom. At least that was something to look forward to and to cheer me up.

  Unlocking the door to my room, I threw my things over my desk chair and sat my box on the bed, determined to open it as soon as possible.

  “Knock, Knock, Dorothy-Dear,” arrived Simon’s voice with an accompanying knock.

  “Come In!” I shouted to my best friend who promptly opened the door and strode inside with a large box in hand, another small one resting on top. “These were delivered to you.”

  “Today must be my lucky day. I just got a package from my mom,” I informed him as I motioned to the box already awaiting on my bed.

  “Ooo a mom box, that means fattening American snacks!” Simon cheered as he placed the other boxes on my bed.

  I took a pair of scissors from my desk and started with my first box, from mom. Opening it, I already saw some of what lay beneath a letter that rested on top.

  Dorothy,

  Just a few things from Dad and me to keep the homesick away. Don’t overdo it on the snacks! The other things are just in case; a young lady can never be too careful.

  Love Always,

  Mama (and Dad too)

  What lay directly under the letter brought a large smile to my face, Pop Tarts. I was a Pop Tart fiend and not having them available to me was driving me absolutely insane. There were Milano cookies, a couple bottles of ranch dressing, and my saving grace--a bottle of hot sauce.

  Lastly, I understood the warning at the end of the letter. My mom, my wonderful and eccentric mother, had lined the bottom of the box with condoms. My hands went over my mouth as I let out a squealing giggle.

 

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