Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, taboo teacher/student relations, bdsm play, discipline, spanking, humiliation, anal sex, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.
Jackson doesn’t know why he started the rumor about Professor Vicarro, his young and handsome politics professor. Maybe it was a plea for attention or maybe it was just a way of making a long-hidden fantasy become slightly real. But whatever the reason, the rumors have made their way to the Dean of Student Affairs Mr. Iverson himself, and when Jackson is called down to the office on a Friday afternoon, he finds out the dean’s heard a lot more.
Once past the initial mortification, he can admit he’s probably earned the spanking he’ll get, but did Mr. Iverson really have to tell Professor Vicarro about the whole thing, too? Surely he’ll find his own ways to settle accounts, and all Jackson can do is wait and see which method will leave him more sore.
Excerpt:
The ensuing silence was awful. After daring the initial glance towards Professor Viccaro my eyes had stayed locked on a spot on the floor near the leg of the desk. I could feel him considering me.
“Won’t you say something, Professor?” I finally blurted.
“I’m trying to understand you, Jackson.”
“What’s to understand? I shouldn’t have said – I just made a mistake.”
“What did you want?”
I struggled with the question. “I guess I just sort of liked the idea of it, to tell the truth,” I said finally in a very quiet voice. “I’m just so incredibly embarrassed, professor.”
He blinked in surprise. Then he started to laugh. “Is that what it was?” he said. “I thought I saw something in the way you looked at me, and it made the lie all the harder to understand.” He closed the door of the office and stepped into the room. “But then again, if you knew the headache … what a stupid thing.”
“I’m sorry.”
He loosened his necktie and ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair. Even though it was wildly inappropriate given the situation, I couldn’t help but find him even more alluring when angry than when he was calm and collected. He seemed simultaneously capable of anything and yet in control. I got the sudden and very strange insight that he had probably been the type to get into a lot of trouble when he was younger.
He turned back to look at me and caught me staring. His eyes locked to mine, freezing me in place, and I watched a faintly appraising look come into his face.
“Well what are we going to do about this?” he asked.
The question sounded rhetorical, so I watched him without answering.
“Tell me,” he said, walking over to lean against the desk only a couple feet from me. “What is it exactly you told people I did?”
Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Naughty Rumors with full consent of the original author.
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