So do I. I’m surprised that you understand her submissiveness so easily though.
I’m a qualified counselor on sexual trauma. While Shawnie’s shocked me a few times with the depths of her troubles, that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the psychology behind it. Some of the strongest people in the world are natural submissives.
Exactly. So all I’m trying to do is let her understand that there’s nothing wrong with being a woman who enjoys sex or her submissiveness.
You make it sound so easy.
I have the advantage of being able to tie her up and satisfy that side of her.
Touché. If I can ask, though, what happens when Shawnie achieves her inner peace? Are you going to let her go?
Shawnie will always have the choice to stay or go.
Will you ever get rid of her?
Never. All I can think of when I think of Shawnie is her happiness. If that means my not being her Master . . . well, it’d tear me apart and I’d probably be giving you a call, but I’d let her go.
Thank you. That reassures me. Well, I don’t want to keep you guys.
Thanks. And thank you for doing your best to help her, Counselor. If you want, give me a call any time so we can make sure we’re on the same page.
I will.
Chapter 23
Rafe
“So when you’re working with a static fixed beam model, you have to account for your wing geometry,” I say, looking out on the room full of undergrads, trying not to sigh. With Spring Break coming up next week, the ones that haven’t been lost in the dust a long time ago are now thinking about partying down in Baja or at least down in LA or San Diego.
“However,” I continue, trying to not just end the class and walk out, or maybe install one of the Disney talking animatronics up front instead, “for the purposes of this class, you can treat the wing like a solid object and the weight being evenly distributed. Just be aware that when you get to your post-grad courses, that won’t always be the case. Then again, you’re going to have simulators to help with the math then too, provided you do your initial setups correctly. Class dismissed.”
I wait for everyone to pile out before I gather my materials and head back to my office, pausing only to check on Melanie, who’s feeling a lot better since the whole Aaron incident finished and she’s back in the good graces of the administration. Sitting down at my desk, I pull my computer over and fire it up, wanting to get a bit of my own paperwork done before I meet Shawnie for our lunchtime workout.
There’s a knock at my door, and I look up to see the Dean. “Hey Dean, come on in. What can I do for you?”
His face is stormy, and as he comes in, he looks like his ulcer is flaring up again. “Rafe . . . oh, Rafe, why do you do this to me?”
“What are you talking about? I think I’ve kept myself pretty well out of your hair over the past few weeks since the whole thing with Mr. Watson wrapped up. Personally, I’m glad the kid’s staying in school.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” the Dean says. “Rafe, when were you going to tell me that you were having a relationship with a student?”
“Excuse me?” I reply, lifting an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you needed to know the details of my sex life.”
“Rafe, I’m being serious. The Board found this in their mail today, a memory stick and a note,” the Dean says, handing me his tablet. “I . . . they made me watch it.”
I open the video, anger starting to flare behind my eyes as I see a video feed of the Black Room at The Club. It’s highly edited, making it sound and look more like a cheap porn video than what actually happened, and the vocal tracks overlaid certainly aren’t our voices. But the faces and action are crystal clear.
With trembling fingers, I stop the video. “So? She’s not an undergrad any longer, so that’s not an issue. She’s not my TA either, and the project rules don’t prohibit it. So to me, it looks like two consenting adults having sex. Doesn’t seem like a big issue to me.”
“No . . . but also on the DVD were pictures of the two of you in other compromising positions, including . . . for fuck’s sake, Rafe, did you have to put a collar on her to take her shopping?” the Dean asks. “You’re making life tough on me.”
I suppress my inner anger again, wondering just how the hell The Club got footage of us shopping, then deciding it doesn’t really matter. “Ask Shawnie, and she’ll tell you to your face that she enjoyed it. In fact, if you find her, she’s wearing a collar right now, a more discreet one since she’s around campus, but she wears it every day.”
The Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Rafe . . . listen, I’ve always known that you’re different. I mean that in a lot of ways, good and bad. But this, with the current environment on campus? I couldn’t cover for you this time.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, and the Dean reaches into his jacket pocket to take out an envelope. “Go ahead, read it to me. If you’re going to cut my head off, at least have the balls to do it face to face. I’m not going to do to you what I did to Aaron.”
“Actually, it’s not from me. It’s from the Board,” the Dean says. “They’re saying that due to the nature of what was shown to them, they’re opening an investigation. They say that due to certain actions, you may have called not only your own reputation but the reputation of the university into question.”
“Investigation?” I say with a laugh. “Sounds like a witch hunt. You know and I know that if they want to claim that I’m damaging Stanford’s reputation, there’s not a damn thing I can do to defend myself from it. I’m sure they can dig up enough people who’d get pissed off from those videos that they could make a case stick.”
“Of course they can. I can think of three-quarters of my church who’d shit themselves just over the first video,” the Dean says. “But Rafe, that brings us to a sticky point. You’ve got tenure. If you were an associate professor, I’d be bringing you your pink slip for the end of the term. But since you’re tenured, that takes a lot longer, and to be honest, it can ruin your reputation. The Board didn’t say it flat out—they can’t—but the deal is this. You resign, and they’ll sweep it all under the rug. Hell, they won’t even touch Shawnie. She’ll continue in the program on track to get her Masters, summa cum laude.”
“And if I don’t? Are they going to hamstring one of the most promising minds I’ve met at this school since I started teaching here?”
The Dean shakes his head. “No. She probably won’t get any good internships that she can’t get from her own hard work, but Stanford would be stupid to not accept her for the PhD program. She won’t get offered the associate professor’s slot that I know we’ve been scouting her for, but that’s it. As for you . . . if you hang on, they’ll make the hearing on your tenure revocation public. They have to by state law. And if that happens, this all comes out. The Board’s willing to take the hit on it.”
“So resign or get shamed publicly,” I state, and the Dean nods miserably. “Tough choice.”
“It is. I’m not going to say I have the same tastes, but I’m also not going to condemn you on it. I could tell, like you said, that it was consensual. And you obviously care about this girl. But there are other places out there than Stanford.”
I nod, then take the letter the Dean gave me and tear it into four quarters slowly, handing them back to him. “Here, give this to the Board. Tell them that I honestly don’t give a fuck what they want to worry about. I knew exactly what the risks were when I started my relationship with Shawnie, and compared to her, this university doesn’t mean jack shit to me. So if they want to get rid of me because the two of us happen to enjoy the relationship we have, then they’re going to have to grow a set of balls and look me in the eye and say it. I’m not resigning.”
I don’t know if he’s pleased or not when he takes the pieces of paper back from me, tucking them in his pocket. “I’ll take it to the Board. It’s my duty, then, to inform you that when the Board does call a hearing, you’re entitled to have
a legal representative. There are some changes to the rules from a court hearing, but I’ll have Melanie bring by the file on what’s going to happen. If it matters, I’m hoping you stick around. You’re a good teacher, Rafe.”
“One more thing,” I ask as the Dean gets up. “The CyberFighter?”
“From what I know, the Pentagon doesn’t know anything. Your lab and your funding there are safe for now.” The Dean leaves, and I spend a few minutes trying to calm myself before my workout.
I don’t want to tell Shawnie during that time. She’s got a class after lunch before lab time, and she’s not in a place where she’s ready to handle what just happened. And the last bit about the CyberFighter being safe? That’s just so much bullshit. The Pentagon might have let a public relations issue go back in the fifties or sixties, but this is the new era, where the PR men have as much influence as the engineers, the soldiers, and the bean counters.
I’m getting my bag together when there’s a knock on my door and Melanie opens it, a thick softbound book in her hand. “Professor Meyers? The Dean asked me to bring this by.”
“Thanks, Melanie,” I say, taking it and setting it on my desk. “Looks like some fun reading for Spring Break. A lot better than the Dean Koontz book I had planned.”
Melanie laughs, but when I turn around, her face is haunted. “Professor . . . Rafe. If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask. I feel like this is partly my fault. If I hadn’t been so upset . . .”
“You did nothing wrong,” I reassure her. “If anything, Melanie, you’re one of the people I most respect around this place. You do your job, you do it well, and you conduct yourself with class. Don’t blame yourself for this. This is me and a bunch of fearful people who think that they can control the world, when in reality, all you can do is control yourself.”
Melanie smiles, nodding. “You should teach philosophy too. That bunch of blowhards could use some real wisdom around there.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I’d be in even more trouble over there. But thanks.”
Melanie shakes her head and leaves, and I get my things, the anger starting to flare inside me again. I bury it, let it burn inside me, knowing that Shawnie’s going to wonder what’s going on, but I can keep my tongue until then.
Either way, it looks like I might need to make another visit to The Club.
Chapter 24
Shawnie
Watching Rafe torpedo through the water the way he is, I’m breathless even though my workout finished ten minutes ago. I was surprised at first that Rafe wanted something as supposedly normal as swimming, but at the same time, it turned me on to wear my new swimsuit, a one-piece with a mostly open back that allows my wings to be seen by everyone. During Spring Break, I’ve already tried to think of ways that I can wear backless outfits or outfits that highlight my wings as best I can.
My watch beeps, and I see that regardless of whether Rafe’s tired or not, I’ve got a class to get to. I slap the water at the end of the lane, and when he reaches the end of the pool again, he stops, looking up at me. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I’ve got class in twenty minutes,” I reply. “You mind if I head out?”
Rafe looks up at the clock on the side of the pool area, blinking in surprise. “No, of course not. Listen, I didn’t get to talk about it, but when we get home, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
I can’t help it, I feel the worry start to come back. “Is it . . . bad?”
Rafe shakes his head, giving me a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing that we can’t get through. Go take care of class, and I’ll see you at the lab later. Remember, it’s just you and me today. Everyone else is off already.”
I smile, trying to be brave, but still, as I get dressed for class, I worry. I get to class on time, and the test we have today is able to calm me down some, even if it is easy. Still, I go over my test, and I get concerned when I see that I’ve made a few errors. Easily correctable, but it’s the sort of mistakes that I don’t make often.
I make the corrections and turn in the paper, leaving the lecture hall with time to spare. I’m in the quad when my phone rings, and I pick it up. The phone number has a Stanford exchange. “Hello?”
“Hello, Shawnie,” Mr. Robinson says in my ear, chilling me to the bone. “I bet you’re wondering how I got this number.”
“What do you want? Threatening me again?” I ask, trying to remember. I’m not the same girl he wanted to take advantage of. I can deal with this man, stand up to him. “It’s not going to work. I’m not going back to The Club.”
“Last chance. You won’t embarrass me again like you’ve been doing. If you don’t come to The Club Saturday night to meet my associate, not only am I going to broadcast you getting whipped and ass fucked in Hi-Def around campus . . . well, let’s just say 154 Bull Street.”
The ice in my veins goes to subzero as he says the street address of my family’s home in South Carolina. I try to scream out my reply, but what comes out is nothing more than a breathy whisper. “No.”
“You have a day and some change to think about it. My friend won’t get here until nearly midnight, so you have plenty of time to get yourself as dolled up as you want. He won’t love you, but he’s the closest thing you’ll ever have to a Prince Charming. Oh, and he likes purple eyeshadow, so be sure to wear a lot of that. Remember, Bull Street.”
The line goes dead and I stare at my phone, slipping it back into my backpack as I feel the familiar scream of glee inside me. The demon has found his way out again. Rafe could defend me against everything inside me, he could protect me and build me up . . . but Mr. Robinson already had a corruptor’s back door, a Trojan horse in the program that let him get right past everything we’ve built up over the past three weeks.
No, not this time. Go to him. Don’t let some crook and the devil inside ruin your progress.
The voice inside me is different than anything I’ve ever heard before, and I stop, listening to it.
If you go to The Club, you’re going to end up dead.
I stumble up the stairs, desperate to see Rafe’s face. To feel his touch.
I get the door open, and he’s there, looking up in concern as I stagger into the lab, tears rolling down my face. He’s out of his chair in an instant, coming over and taking me in his arms, holding me tightly. Exactly what I needed.
“Shawnie, what’s wrong?” Rafe asks, and I look into his eyes, so blue they sear my very soul with their inner fire. All of my fears, all the threats that Mr. Robinson made . . . they’re gone as I tell him about the phone call.
“It’s okay, Angel,” he says. “I probably made things worse because I didn’t tell you about what happened this morning. I thought that since you had a test, it would be better to focus on that. I was wrong.”
“What happened?” I ask, listening as Rafe tells me about his meeting with the Dean. “You mean you could lose your job?”
“I could,” he agrees. “But it doesn’t matter. All that matters to me is that you are safe. I knew that bowing down to these assholes wouldn’t do that, so I told them to stick it. Let them fire me. I’ve found something better, something that scares me and sets my soul on fire at the same time.”
“What?” I ask, swallowing, and he takes my hands and looks into my eyes. “No, Master . . .”
“Yes, Shawnie. I’ve fallen in love with you, and for that love, the first time I’ve truly loved anyone in my life, I’m willing to risk everything.”
“Why?” I ask. “I mean, first . . . I love you too. But . . . why me?”
“The same reason you scare me. Because being with you has been . . . perfect. But at the same time, that perfection worries me,” Rafe says, cupping my cheek. “You know, I was going to take you to bed right around Spring Break, show you how strong you are, and then let you outgrow me or 'break my heart,' moving on as respectful colleagues, not what we have become. I never expected to fall in love with you.”
“Is that a good thing t
hough?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Of course it is, but what's left me shaking with night sweats is . . . what if part of the way I feel for you is because of the Program?”
I think about it for a moment, then shake my head, trusting in what I’ve got to say, strength flowing into me with every word. “It doesn’t matter. Whether it's the Program, God, fate, or just the fact that you like my boobs, you feel the way you feel. And I love you. That's not some side effect of my own trauma or because you're a teacher and in a position of authority over me. What matters is that I love you and you love me, right?”
He nods, taking my hands. “I do. I have no doubt.”
“Then the reasons behind it don't mean nothin', as we would say back home,” I finish, my smile fading. “But what about Mr. Robinson and the threats he’s made?”
“We’ll take care of those. But first, I have something else I need to take care of.”
“What?” I ask, and Rafe kisses me, pulling me to him and caressing my back.
“You . . . show me your desire,” he says softly. “Show me the angel. Show me your power and strength.”
He pulls my body against his, letting my hunger and desire take away all of my inhibitions. Standing on my tiptoes, I can just reach his chin with my lips, so I kiss him there, trailing kisses down the sides of his neck. He initially resists me. He’s become accustomed to being in charge, but I desperately want to feel him. I pull his shirt back and over his shoulders, tossing it to the side. He pulls at my shirt and bra, stripping me quickly and leaving us both naked from the waist up, our eyes burning with something different than anything we’ve done before, more intense than even the strongest kink we’ve tried.
“Like what you see?” Master asks, and I have to grin at his confidence and the feeling that he’s giving me. He’s intentionally letting himself be a little vulnerable, reassuring me even with his feigned weakness. Stepping back, I growl lightly, running my hands over my breasts, making sure to rub my nipples and tease him as much as I can.
No Limits: A Dark Romance Page 16