Mr Blackwell: Teacher Student Romance (12 page)

48

I push her to the bed, feeling the power of my body over hers. She is so small. So delicate. I could kill her if I wanted to, and yet she is trusting me to take charge of her.

‘If you don’t like anything, tell me and I’ll stop. Okay?’

‘Okay.’

As good as her body feels, this is not how I want to start things. I stand, pacing around the bed and watching her.

‘Take off your pyjamas.’

She does, revealing – of course – white underwear.

I fight down a smile. ‘It had to be white, didn’t it?’

The feeling of her doing what I tell her – it is incredible. Women have submitted to me thousands of times. They have agreed to all sorts of degrading things. And yet nothing has ever felt like this – nothing has ever felt as good as Sophia simply stripping off her underwear at my instruction.

I close the curtains, then take off my clothes – leaving my own underwear on, even though I’m straining to be free.

Right now, Sophia is not allowed to touch me.

I grab Sophia’s ankles, feeling the fragility of them in my strong fingers. Then I turn her onto her stomach so she can’t see me.

I want her to be deprived of sight. To be out of control, letting me take charge.

Roughly, I pull her legs open and put my hand between them, moving back and forth.

I hear her moan, and feel the noise right in the pit of my stomach. It is the most beautiful sound.

I love that she is vulnerable. I could do anything. She is totally at my mercy.

I move my hand back and forth, feeling her body relax against me. She wriggles a little, but as I get in a rhythm she falls completely still, her breathing heavy against the pillow.

Her thighs begin to tighten, and I know she is about to come. So gently, I slide my hand away.

‘Please don’t stop,’ she whispers.

I slap her hard between the legs – right where I just made her sensitive.

Her body flinches.

‘That’s a warning,’ I say. ‘Don’t tell me what to do again.’

I put my hand back and carry on rubbing, teasing her.

‘I don’t want you to come yet,’ I tell her. ‘The longer the build up, the better the orgasm.’

Her body is both relaxing and getting tighter against my hand. She is beginning to tense, and experience tells me she is about to come any minute. But this is a lesson in self-control. I’ve given her a clear instruction. She must not come. If she can’t obey me, there will be consequences.

‘Oh Marc,’ she moans. ‘Oh, that feels so good.’

I am merciless now, my hand rubbing harder and faster. She tries to wriggle away, but I pull her back onto my palm.

‘If you don’t want me to come, you have to stop moving your hand,’ she yelps, still trying to wriggle free.

I place a firm hand on her hip, forcing her to be still, and rub harder and harder.

I know she won’t be able to help herself – not the first time. She moans and suddenly she is clenching against my hand, crying out as she comes.

I watch her as she relaxes into the soft mattress.

I am smiling, I realise. That is another first. But she was just so beautiful to watch.

I lay the duvet gently over her body. Then I lean down to her ear.

‘I told you not to come,’ I whisper.

She laughs. ‘Then you should have stopped moving your hand.’

But this is no laughing matter. ‘You disobeyed me. And Monday morning, I’m going to punish you.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’ I stroke her hair, but my voice is firm.

‘You’re going to
punish
me?’

I begin to dress, not answering her question. This is all part of the game – the silent treatment. The slow build-up of fear.

‘You’re not staying?’ she asks.

‘No.’ I place my hands on her body under the duvet, wanting badly to take her into my arms. But I don’t. ‘People can’t see me leave in the morning. I told you I’d protect you. That means your reputation too.’

‘I wish you could stay.’

‘So do I. Monday.’

‘But that’s two days away.’

‘Monday.’

49

My hand finds Sophia’s hair, stroking softly.

Sleep well, my perfect little angel.

You saw me. All of me. And you didn’t run screaming.

The things I’ve done to Sophia … I’ve humiliated her. Hurt her. All in the name of pleasure. She’s submitted to me in every way.

I have never loved anyone as much. Ever.

She has gone on this journey with me – to dark places, where I take charge of her pleasure and she loses herself. But unlike the others, she never lost herself completely. She was light. The whole time.

I will probably always test her. She has to explore her boundaries. Her limits. Or she’ll never know the full extent of pleasure I can give her.

The first time I made her come, I’ll remember forever. She fitted me so well, and I hadn’t even nearly begun to test her yet.

Of course, a part of me was afraid. I’d never had these feelings. Been in contact with this goodness.

But I couldn’t stop myself. Not once we’d started.

My plan was not to see her all weekend. I wanted to build up a nice amount of tension. But things didn’t work out that way. Sophia had her drink spiked and ended up in hospital.

I have never felt so angry.

I literally wanted to kill the student who did it to her. If I’d have gotten my hands on him at the wrong moment, I probably would have done.

The relief I felt when the hospital told me she’d be all right …

I watched over Sophia that weekend. She didn’t know, but I did.

The hospital assured me that she’d be absolutely fine, but I wanted to make sure. They complimented me on how kind I was to care for my pupils so well. If only they’d known …

The nurses were right of course – Sophia was fine. And by Sunday night, I knew we could continue.

I called her and told her to meet me on Monday as planned. In the classroom. There was just one rule – she wasn’t allowed any underwear.

50

I hear Sophia before I see her – walking in that slightly messy, clattering way of hers, boots hitting the polished corridor.

I’m perched on a desk, waiting.

Sophia appears in the doorway, and I hold back a smile.

God, she is perfect.

‘Glad to see you’re on time,’ I say. ‘Underwear?’

‘No,’ she says, her voice stomach-meltingly high and light.

I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself. There’s something about this girl … I’m drawn to her like a magnet. I can’t explain it.

Having the sorts of urges I have, you get to know the women who enjoy being dominated. And Sophia is one of them. For sure. For absolute sure. I have plans for her. Unbelievable plans. Plans that will take her places she’s never been.

And yet she’s not like the others. I will be her first – I know that. It makes all this sort of pure. Not the usual word I’d use to describe my relationships.

I clear my throat. ‘You’re familiar with the stationery cupboard.’

‘You know I am,’ Sophia replies.

I want to smile. It’s like we’re sharing a private joke. Sort of cute, in a way. I imagine this is what couples feel like. For a moment, I like it. But then I snap back to reality.

I open the cupboard door.

It’s a place I keep scripts, paper, notebooks and boxes of biros. The sort of cupboard you have in every classroom. There are dusty shelves inside. Scripts. And today, a length of rope.

My throat tightens at the thought of that rope.

I got here early this morning and screwed eyelets into the wooden shelves.

My heart clenches and unclenches. So this is love – a pain in the chest. Unbelievable desire mixed with searing pain.

‘You’re about to get more familiar with it,’ I tell Sophia. ‘In you go.’

Sophia hesitates, and for a moment I think she might tell me that she doesn’t like this anymore. That I got it wrong. She’s not that sort of girl after all.

Nothing would give me greater pleasure than her walking away right now.

She
should
walk away.

I am no Prince Charming and this is no fairy tale.

But Sophia steels herself and walks inside, jerking to a stop when she sees the rope hanging from the shelves.

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.