02
Any nervousness and intrigue Marie had while approaching the professor dissipated as her eyes fell to the professor’s desk. On it was her write-up that had been due before the first day of class, at the top written a bold, red…
C-
Marie was not one to feel entitled towards certain grades or take bad ones personally. Overall, she was an A/B student and was content with it ; a C here and there wouldn’t destroy her. But to get a C- on the first assignment of the class and on a paper she had put considerable thought and effort into stung.
Marie grabbed the paper off the desk, taking a closer look to make sure it was hers – and it was. Marianna Mor was written right there at the top.
The student’s inhibition left the room.
Marie snapped, « What the fuck. »
« Language, Miss Mor. » The baritone voice of the professor cut through the closing distance between the teacher and student as he took a few steps closer.
Marie was average in stature, but – God – she felt so small in his presence. And she loved the feeling.
Everywhere Marie felt the pressure from society and her elders to conform to some sort of ideal. The demanding and high-stress reality of her life made the feeling of being dominated a psychological release. Whether this was purely in spite of demands for a societally acceptable strong and independent woman, Marie just knew it felt good.
Dr. Dameron or Nathaniel, held out his hand for Marie to hand back her paper. She slowly placed it in her professor’s hand, her eyes never meeting his and remaining idly looking at the ground below her. It wasn’t out of shame or fear, but she just needed Nathaniel to say…
« Look at me. » Marie couldn’t help but obey the sternest of his order. His eyes were a storm, full of intensity and emotion – none of which she could get any read on.
The eroticism of the encounter was practically tangible, but both parties did their best to ignore it.
The professor was used to it. Marie wasn’t the first student to try and play this game with him. And they never won.
Nathaniel had been with women – many women for that matter. He was aware he was attractive, call it cockiness or just self-awareness. Student and faculty had thrown themselves at him repeatedly. But Nathaniel never mixed work with pleasure. It was the only way to avoid any legal issues and possible bad press. Having his eyes set on being president of Wentworth University, Nathaniel needed to be careful.
Yet the girl – the student – standing in front of him was unwinding all of that. And it all started when he read the paper he was currently gripping in his hand.
Nathaniel wanted to smack the confused and innocent look off Marie’s face. He wasn’t privy to needing to turn down horny students. He knew they’d all run if they knew what went on in his head.
But Marie wouldn’t – and that terrified him.
All he needed to do was scare the young student into not trying anything further. An intrusive thought in his mind was telling him if she didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to…
Nathaniel flipped through the student’s assignment to the last page. Marie’s heart was doing its own marathon. She had written the last few points and concluding paragraph past midnight with her earlier dose of caffeine running its final course. Marie’s thoughts stilled as she began trying to remember exactly what she said…
Marie’s eyes widened. Her words hadn’t been blatantly erotic, after all sexual deviancy was a legit area of study, but they could be suggestive to those with a certain… mindset.
Marie usually kept her darkest desires to herself. Whenever the topic of sex came up within groups of friends, she would just nod along as others called themselves kinky and then drew the line at choking. Marie quickly learned it was probably best to keep your fantasy of being fucked with a pocket knife against your throat to yourself.
The professor looked as if he were about to starting reading…
« Uh – you don’t need to – look, I’m sorry, professor, » Marie started to backtrack. « I know it’s a bad paper and I’ll take the grade. »
While Marie was stumbling over her words, Nathaniel was watching her closely. He felt the addicting sense of control he got from putting a student in their place rise in him.
« Why did you take this class, Miss Mor ? »
« I… »
Marie was rarely a woman to be at loss for words. She was stubborn and argumentative, traits she had gotten directly from her mother. But standing before Nathaniel, she could feel that sense of control and brattiness fade…
The professor pushed on, not realizing he had taken a step forward towards her. « Was it for personal reasons ? »
Yes. Marie didn’t need to tell her professor the answer.
Nathaniel cursed his arousal. While he was a sadist at heart, traumatizing a student on the first day of class wasn’t quite far up his list. He put some much-needed space between himself and Marie, circling back to behind the desk next to the podium, dropping the papers on top of the others.
« Bad writing is not what got you the bad grade, » Nathaniel explained, gripping the edge of the desk and slightly leaning into his arms. Marie had to stop herself from looking at Professor Dameron’s defined forearms.
It’s probably time to drop the class.
Nathaniel continued. « You had one of the best write-ups of the entire class. Which is why I’m going to put you to a higher standard. You can do better. »
« Really ? » Marie was stunned – as was Nathaniel. This was completely off the cuff.
A dark part of the professor wanted to know what was going on in that little head of hers.
« I want you to elaborate on your concluding paragraph. Turn in a final copy – on paper – to me in my office on Friday and I’ll regrade it. I don’t want other students thinking I’m giving out extra credit. Stop by anytime after 7 PM. Understood ? »
Marie nodded, grateful for the offer but immensely intimidated. Nathaniel took a seat behind his desk. Despite the height difference, with Marie still standing, the discussion itself made a clear impression of who was on top.
Marie opened her mouth to express her thanks before she was interrupted.
« And Miss Mor, » Nathanial continued, looking up, « do you go by Marianna ? »
« I go by Marie, » the young student barely managed to reply. She was both intrigued and intimidated, as well as much more beyond that.
« Be in my office on Friday, Marie. »
« Yes, sir. »