by J Lerman
We smile at each other.
‘Well?’ says Jen. ‘What are you doing in this part of London so early? Did you stay out with someone last night?’ She leans closer.
I look at my hot chocolate. ‘Yes and no,’ I say. ‘I was in hospital.’
‘In hospital?’ Jen’s hand shoots to her mouth. ‘Oh my god, Soph. What happened? Why didn’t you call me?’
‘It was all so quick,’ I say. ‘It was nothing serious, in the end. Ryan put something in my drink, and it gave me a funny turn.’
‘He did what?’ When Jen gets angry, she gets really angry. ‘He put something in your drink? Wait until I get a hold of him.’
‘He’s just an idiot, Jen, don’t worry about it.’
‘I am worried,’ says Jen. ‘He’s not going to get away with this.’
‘I don’t think he has,’ I say. ‘Marc Blackwell had a word with him. I imagine he’s suitably chastised.’
‘Wow.’ Jen flicks her blonde hair from shoulder to shoulder. ‘Marc Blackwell stepped in and talked to him? What a great guy. Did you read about him in the newspapers? The spanking stuff?’
I nod.
‘Do you think it’s true?’
‘I’m positive it’s true,’ I say.
‘How come?’
Jen’s cappuccino arrives, and I don’t answer for a moment, waiting for the waiter to leave.
Then I whisper: ‘Because he told me.’
‘He told you?’
‘When I was in hospital, he came to see me,’ I say. ‘And he had me transferred to a private place in West London. He got me my own nurse. And he came to visit me there too.’
Jen’s eyes are growing wider as she picks up her cappuccino.
‘And he sent me flowers to my room. And ... how can I put this? We’ve ... things have happened between us.’
Jen puts her cappuccino back on its saucer with a clatter. ‘Something happened between you and Marc Blackwell!’
‘Shssh!’ I look around. ‘Not so loud. But yes. Something is ... well, happening I guess.’
‘I want to know everything,’ Jen leans closer.
‘It’s ... complicated,’ I say. ‘He’s complicated.’
‘I’ll bet. What with the spanking and everything. Has he done that to you?’
I shake my head. ‘But I think he wants to.’
‘And how to you feel about that?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know if he only likes me because I’m his pupil, and that’s his thing. I mean, he’s a good person, before you say it. He knows it’s not right for the lecturer to be doing anything with the students.’
‘And what have you done, exactly?’ Jen asks.
‘Not much,’ I say. ‘I’m just so confused by the whole thing.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ says Jen. ‘Wow. Well, he always seemed a bit weird with women, don’t you think? I mean, never having a girlfriend for more than a few weeks, and all of that. I’ll find out everything I can about him through my agency. Fore warned is fore armed.’
‘Thanks Jen.’
‘I know he’s hot,’ she says. ‘But he doesn’t sound like good news, and ... well, morally speaking he shouldn’t be messing around with his students.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘It’s difficult. But he makes me feel amazing.’
‘I bet he does.’
‘But confused too, you know? Because this isn’t right, the way things are happening. Or at least, it’s not normal.’
‘Soph. You worry too much. If you’ve got something going with Marc Blackwell, just enjoy it for what it is. And you can look back when you’re thirty and happily married to some nice, normal guy and think, I had a fling with that hot actor when I was younger.’
‘But I sort of want it to be more than that, you know?’
‘Ah.’ Jen takes a sip of cappuccino. ‘Well, that’s your problem. He’s obviously not a usual sort of guy, Soph. So you can’t expect to have a usual sort of relationship. I mean, look at his history. He’s not exactly the romantic type, is he? Just enjoy it for what it is, and try not to get too hurt when it all ends.’
‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘I know you’re right. But then ... if it’s all going to end, maybe I should get out now before I get too hurt.’
‘Maybe you should,’ says Jen. ‘But you’re only human. And I know you. Do you think you can walk away, or do you think you’ll need to be pushed?’
I smile at her. ‘I think we both know the answer to that.’
She nods. ‘So. Enjoy it right now, and prepare yourself for heart break down the line. That’s life. You can cope with heart break. It won’t kill you.’
I don’t know about that.
‘So what are we going to do today?’ says Jen.
‘I could show you around the campus,’ I say. ‘Introduce you to the other students.’
‘For a creative person, you can be very unimaginative,’ says Jen. ‘We’re in the middle of London. There are a billion things to do better than that. I’ve got a guidebook and I’ve ringed the things we should try out. Are you ready? It’s going to be fun!’
Jen and I have a great day. We visit Harrods, and buy picnic food to eat in Regents Park. A few tough, city squirrels try to steal our food, and we end up running away, screaming and laughing.
We go see a movie at Leicester Square, and finish out popcorn walking around in the sunshine, watching the tourists and Londoners shop at Covent Garden.
Predictably, Jen has armfuls of shopping by the end of the day, and we head back to campus to order a takeaway in my bedroom.
Jen wants to find Ryan and slap him around the face, but I persuade her not to.
I invite Tom and Tanya over, and all five of us sit around on my sofas, eating Chinese food, drinking red wine and watching the sun set over the campus. We watch the star wars movies and Jen asks Tom and Tanya endless questions about their backgrounds.
Tom tells us he’s from London originally, so knows the city like the back of his hand. He went to a London boarding school from a very young age. At weekends, he and his friends would go to the theatre and he always did amateur dramatics in his spare time. His parents are actually a Lord and Lady, I was surprised to hear. It’s true that Tom is well spoken, but he’s really down to earth.
Tanya tells us her parents are divorced, and she spent her teenage years in a custody battle between the two of them. She ended up living with her mum, falling out with her, then moving in with her dad when she was at college.
She’s been to university, but quit because she took the wrong course. She’s always loved drama, but her dad wanted her to be a lawyer. Two years of law told her that’s not what she wanted, and now she’s over the moon to be doing drama at Ivy College.
Tanya and Tom ask me about what happened on Saturday, and I tell them I had a funny turn and ended up in A&E. Jen glares at me, willing me to tell them about Ryan, but I feel so sorry for him. Marc has already confronted him.
We’re having a great time, but as usual lately my thoughts drift elsewhere. I think of Marc and, more specifically right now, his iPhone and the pictures and film footage on it.
Just as we’re starting to watch Return of the Jedi, my phone rings with a number I’ve never seen before.
Chapter 38
My heart begins to pound, and Jen gives me a knowing wink.
‘Back in a sec,’ I mutter, running out to the balcony. I take the call.
‘Hello?’
‘You’re not alone.’ It’s Marc’s voice. My stomach turns over.
‘No, I’m not. How did you know that?’
‘Because I’m on campus, watching your window.’ I look over the dark grounds, but I don’t see anyone.
‘I can’t see you,’ I reply.
‘I can see you right now on your balcony. And I see your friends in the background. I wish you were alone.’
‘You do?’ I feel myself smile.
‘Yes. But right now, I just wanted you to know that I’m watching
over you. And. I’ve been watching you all day on my phone. Ve-ry nice. Very nice indeed.’
‘Thanks,’ I stammer.
‘I’d like to take more footage of you. Perhaps tomorrow.’
I swallow tightly. ‘Marc, I’m nervous about tomorrow. I don’t know what you mean about -’
‘I want you to arrive for class twenty minutes early,’ he says. ‘Your class tomorrow will be different from everyone else’s. Don’t wear any underwear.’
With that, the line goes dead.
The next morning, my room smells like takeaway and my living area is a mess. Empty wine bottles and glasses, takeaway containers ... I wish I’d accepted everyone’s offer to help clear up last night.
I shower, wash up and bag up rubbish. As I head down to the recycling area in the sweatpants and t-shirt Marc bought me, I see Ryan loitering in the reception area by the post boxes.
‘Hello,’ I say coldly. ‘What are you doing up so early?’
‘Sophia ...’ He looks startled. ‘I have to say sorry to you. I never thought anything like that would happen. I just wanted you to lighten up and have fun with me.’
I think of what Marc said, about Ryan being in love with me.
‘Just don’t ever do anything like that to anyone again,’ I say.
‘Mr Blackwell has already read me the riot act.’
‘He told me you ... have feelings for me,’ I say softly.
‘What does it matter?’ Ryan snaps. ‘You’re already goo goo over Mr Blackwell, just like every other girl on the course.’
‘I honestly thought you hated me,’ I say.
Ryan laughs. ‘Hated you? I do in a way. It’s hard, seeing someone you like and not being able to have them.’
‘I guess it is,’ I say.
Chapter 39
When I return to my room, I see there’s a text message waiting on my phone. I catch my breath when I see it’s from Marc.
Don’t forget. No underwear.
I think over the message, and what Marc said to me on the phone last night. All this stuff about punishment and telling me what to do. When Marc tells me to do something, it’s hot. And him asking me to wear no underwear to class is hot. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it. Or anything else he asks me to.
If he wants to do something I don’t like, I’ll tell him so. But so far, everything he’s done to me I’ve liked very much. Even his filming me, when I think of it now, makes me feel warm between my legs.
I take off the sweatpants and t-shirt and examine myself in the bathroom mirror. I have a skinny, pale body, no question about that. Not very womanly. A small waist, which is nice, and a weird gap between my thighs, which is not so nice.
My breasts are okay. Nothing special. Same with my bottom, although boyfriends have always complimented me on it. So. What does he see in me? Youth? We’re only a few years apart in age, and he’s been with women younger than me. The whole pupil, teacher thing? Perhaps. But there are plenty of pupils he could have chosen, many of which are far more beautiful and experienced.
Underwear or not? I take off my underwear and catch a glimpse of my naked body. I’m very natural looking. Jen is always going on about bikini lines, but I can’t bear to tear hair out of myself, and I kind of like everything as it should be.
Dressing in jeans and an off-the-shoulder silk top, I realise I’ve chosen badly. The jeans cut into me, and the silk top shows my breasts a little too clearly. I choose a thick, sequinned blue jumper instead, and team it with leggings and ankle boots. No one can see anything that way, and I’m comfortable.
I check my watch and, realising it’s nearly half hour before class, I grab my bag and head towards the lecture theatre.
Marc is waiting for me when I arrive, perched on a desk wearing a pin-striped suit. He raises an eyebrow when I appear in the doorway.
‘Glad to see you on time. Underwear?’
‘No,’ I squeak, feeling suddenly very exposed.
‘You’re familiar with the stationary cupboard,’ he says, walking to the cupboard and opening the door.
‘You know I am. Marc, about this punishment. There are certain things -’
‘You’re about to get more familiar with it,’ says Marc. ‘In you go.’
I walk into the cupboard, but I’m prepared to tell him where to go if he suggests doing something I don’t like.
Inside the stationary cupboard, I see something that makes me stop dead. There are two small metal hoops screwed into one of the shelf above the desk, and a length of rope runs through them.
On the desk sits a bamboo cane – the old-fashioned kind you see in Victorian classrooms. I stare at the little joins along its length.
‘What’s that for?’ I ask.
‘You’ll speak when you’re spoken to,’ says Marc. ‘You’ve been a very bad girl, and I’m going to teach you a lesson.’
He turns me around so my back is against his chest, and I feel a growing hardness against my backside.
‘Trust me, Sophia,’ Marc whispers, shutting the cupboard door. ‘You can stop any time. Just tell me. But right now, I think you’re going to enjoy this. What I’m teaching you today is self control. You’ll learn to control yourself. You’ll learn that sometimes you can’t come until I tell you to.’
He pushes me forwards until I’m pressed against the desk, and ties my hands with the rope. Then he pulls the rope tight, and my hands shoot up into the air.
‘Oh!’ I say in surprise, and Marc ties the rope into a complicated knot.
‘If you want to be released,’ he says, ‘just pull at this part of the rope, and the knot will undo. This is one-hundred percent consensual. I know you want this. I hope you’re able to admit to yourself how much you want this. How much you want me to punish you.’
Do I? It really depends what the punishment is. But I’m glad I can pull the rope down.
Marc rubs his palm around my buttocks. ‘You’ve been a very bad girl,’ he says. ‘And now you have to be disciplined.
He pulls my leggings to halfway down my thighs, and carries on caressing my buttocks with his hand.
‘Good girl. No underwear.’
Then he pushes up my jumper and ties a knot in it so my buttocks are exposed.
‘You’ve been such a bad girl,’ he murmurs, picking up the cane. He tests its springiness in his hands, then swishes it back and forth and my stomach goes weak.
‘Don’t hurt me,’ I say.
He rubs it back and forth over my buttocks, and I feel its smoothness, and the little bumps of its joins. It’s torturous, not knowing if he’s going to whack me with it, and I think he knows it.
‘Are you going to hit me?’ I ask.
‘Do you want me to?’ He pulls the cane back, and I turn to see him holding it in the air, as if ready to strike.
‘Maybe,’ I admit, feeling hot between my legs. ‘Not too hard, though.’
He brings the cane towards me, but stops an inch before my buttocks.
‘Oh.’ I moan, and lean into the ropes. ‘Hit me. Please.’
He puts the cane down. ‘Right now, I have a class to teach. You’ll wait here until I’m ready to deal with you.’
‘You’re going to leave me here?’ I ask.
‘I told you. You’ll wait here until I’m ready for you.’
‘But the class will arrive.’
‘Then you’d better be quiet.’
With that he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
Moments later, I hear the sound of pupils arriving and taking their seats. I can’t hear what anyone is saying, but I can hear the low hum of conversation.
Against it, I hear Marc’s deep voice and it resonates in my stomach. I feel my nakedness and ache for him to come back and touch me. How long does he plan to leave me here?
The conversation lowers to silence, and I hear Marc talking to the class. This is torture. I want him to touch me so badly, to use the cane on me like he threatened. I see it there beside me and feel so turne
d on at the thought of it. But now I’ll have to wait until class is finished. Or will he leave me here even longer? I won’t stay if he does.
Suddenly, I hear a creak of hinges and turn to see the door handle turning.
Oh my god.
I see Marc in the doorway. No one from class could see me unless they walked right into the cupboard.
Marc closes the door behind him.
Chapter 40
‘What are you doing?’ I whisper. ‘The whole class is out there.’
‘Be quiet.’ He picks up the cane. Holding it high in the air, he smacks it on my buttocks. There’s a tiny ‘thack’ sound, but not loud enough to be heard in the classroom.
I gasp, and have to bite my teeth together to stop from crying out – not from pain, but from pleasure. The line where the cane hit tingles, and I want him to do it again. So badly. And he does. Once. Twice. Three times. I hear a light swoosh as the cane flies through the air, and my knees go weak.
Marc puts his hand between my legs and rubs back and forth, then lets his fingers slip inside me and out again.
‘Don’t do that,’ I beg. ‘Please. I can’t bear it.’
‘This is what you get for misbehaving,’ Marc whispers. ‘Open your legs,’ he instructs, standing back and sliding the cane between my thighs.
‘But the class are outside,’ I whisper.
‘Do as you’re told.’
I move my feet apart.
‘Good girl. Now bend over the desk.’
Oh god. His words are making me feel things I’ve never felt before. I bend forwards, my wrists pulling against the ropes.
He slides the cane inside me, and moves it back and forth.
Oh god. I can’t make a sound. This is torture.
Then he puts the cane down on the desk with a clatter, and walks out of the room, banging the door closed behind him.
I hear Marc talking to the class, and feel totally desperate for him. I hear the zip of the projection unit coming down, and then the drone of a movie being played.
The cupboard door opens again, and Marc slams it closed and strides towards me.
‘Are you sorry for misbehaving?’ he asks.
‘I didn’t misbehave,’ I say.