Page 64 of Little Paper Games
I opened the door, taking my time before opening it. Jude’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw me. I had made good use of my afternoon, taking care to pull the exact outfit I wanted. A high-waisted black pencil skirt that was technically too small for me, molding to each of my curves like a second skin. I had paired it with a charcoal gray blouse that had a high neck and an oxford feel to it, but it was form fitting and feminine with a slight ruffling at the chest. I’d left just enough buttons undone to let my cleavage become the focal point of the outfit. The seamed thigh highs and garter belt with the stiletto shoes only added to the appeal. But what took the ensemble overboard was the messy French twist I’d fastened my wavy hair into and the glasses I’d donned. They were old glasses from a play I’d been in years ago. Yes, I am a pack rat; I know.
“Kenna,” he breathed, walking through the door as I showed him in.
“That will be one demerit, Mr. Lincoln. It is inappropriate to refer to your superiors in such a fashion. My name is Professor Clarke, and you will do well to remember it. Understood?” I stared him down, just slightly, until he nodded his head.
“Good. Now, to your desk, please.” I had moved the living room around completely, moving the small desk that usually sat in my kitchen in the middle of the living room. I had hung an old whiteboard on the wall to give the classroom illusion a better feel.
I took a moment to look over Jude. He’d dressed in pressed khakis and a burgundy polo. His hair looked perfectly coiffed, and the glasses were a perfect touch. He looked like some sinful mix between the current Jude and just a touch of that high school cocky innocence. It would be a joy to destroy him today. That’s exactly what I had planned.
“Mr. Lincoln, do you know why you’ve been called here, during non-class time?” I offered, leaning against my small kitchen table that I’d moved to the front of my living room.
“Um, no,” he stated awkwardly.
“You’re here to serve detention. You’ve been disrupting my class all year and I will not have it any further. So, you will serve detention this evening until I’m satisfied. Do you understand?” I eyed him up and down slowly.
“Yes, Professor. I understand.” He was already squirming in his seat a little. This was going to be fun.
“Perfect. You will see supplies in the top drawer of the desk. Please take out a sheet of paper and a blue pen. We will begin with lines.” I walked to the whiteboard and wrote the sentence out for him.
“Lines?” he questioned, more under his breath than to me, but I wasn’t going to stand for it.
“That’s another demerit for you, Mr. Lincoln. You’re going to have a collection if you do not start to behave. Now, please state the line I’ve provided out loud. Nice and clear for me.”
“I will choose to be helpful and compassionate rather than a constant disruption to others.” His voice was clear, deep, and rich. I shook thoughts of his dirty talk from my mind and focused on the task at hand.
“Good. Now please write the line fifty times. Make sure it is legible and clear. Any sentences not legible will have to be repeated twice over. Do you have any questions?” I smirked at the look on his face. He looked half aroused and half shocked that I was actually making him do work. But that’s what made this so fun.
He shook his head, but smiled as he completed his lines. I let him work for a while, my eyes not leaving him. I wanted him to feel watched; scrutinized even. Once I saw he’d made it about halfway through the set, I walked over to him, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor where the rug had been moved away for this little event.
I circled his chair, letting him smell my perfume. Making sure my skirt edged up just a little to show off the lace top of my thigh highs where they were held in place by my garter straps.
I heard the sharp intake of his breath and smiled.
“Finished, Professor Clarke,” he announced. His voice was a little deeper now.
“Good. I will take it and grade it. Please take your chair to the front of your desk and have a seat.” He looked at me, slightly puzzled, before complying. “Please be patient.”
I shifted my hip up, sliding onto the edge of my desk and crossing my legs. My thigh showed clearly, the garter belt peeking through. I watched him in my peripheral vision as I pretended to grade his work. My fingers dipped down, playing with my pearl necklace and letting my fingertips graze over the swell of my breasts. With a small stretch, the next button popped free — the sole reason I never wore this top out in public anymore — and I heard his barely restrained groan. My see-through black lace bralette showed clearly now.
When I looked up from his paper, he was almost drooling. He was the picture of a sex crazed college student. Which, I guess, he actually was. I uncrossed my legs, letting him peek between my thighs to see that there was nothing on beneath that garter belt. I smirked at the unrestrained groan that he let loose, his head falling down into his hands.
“Christ, Kenna,” he moaned.
“Three additional demerits, Mr. Lincoln.” The crack of the ruler against the palm of my hand had his head popping up real quick. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I do believe you are getting worse. That will not be tolerated. It looks like I will have to make my punishment more severe.”
I popped up off of the desk, moving back to his desk and pulling the rope I’d left in the bottom drawer for this very moment.
“Mr. Lincoln, please stand.” I stood before him, the rope in my hand drawing his stare. “Now, Mr. Lincoln, we haven’t got all day. Stand and strip.”
“Strip!?” He nearly squawked as I stood before him.
“I didn’t stutter, and I do not have all day.” I had taken a fair bit of my afternoon to research a little on rope work. It wasn’t fancy, but it would serve the purpose of what I had planned.
His clothes came off quickly, and I looked over him quickly. When he stood there, nude before me, covering his junk, I chuckled.
“Have a seat. Let’s begin.” I pushed him gently into the chair and kneeled before him. The rope I had was two ropes. I tied the end of one in a single column tie on his ankle and set it aside. I did the same with the second rope and his other ankle. I ran each underneath the chair and stood, making sure my breasts ran over his legs as I did.
I took the two ropes from under the chair behind him, and made another single column tie on each wrist, pulling them tight so his feet were pulled back to a degree. His left foot tied to his left wrist and the same on his right side.
