He asks her to stay after class

Professor Sam Barrett was sitting atop his desk at the front of the room, talking to his students as if they were his peers. Six feet tall, two hundred pounds, with dark brown hair that might as well be black, he continued to earn the adoration and smiles of the various young women inside his class. Yet, through all the smiles and looks he got, one student stood out. A beautiful redhead in a sea of blondes and brunettes. Hannah was the only red-haired girl in the class. If she yawned, he noticed. If she fell asleep, he noticed. If it looked like she was doodling rather than writing, it would be infinitely more obvious to him than it would be for any other person in the class. As his gaze wandered through the class while continuing his anecdotes and study tips, his eyes would always stop for a second on the captivating form of Hannah Sutton. Something about her smile stood out. He wanted to say she was a nice person and he could see it in her eyes. But in all honesty, he probably just, as a result of his long stint of being single after a bad divorce, was succumbing to the more primitive side of his psyche, and found this particular student almost painfully attractive, especially as he could’ve sworn he could see a bit of Hannah’s bra through the open part of her top. It was dark blue. He cursed himself for having noticed this, because it only made things worse for him.

He had gotten the nickname of “Buddy” from his fellow teachers due to the friendly air about him: the welcoming breath of fresh air he seemed to bring with him whenever he entered a room. Nobody would guess that Buddy, when not in school being his cordial self, had a big thing for bondage and domination. Buddy was well aware and supportive of the changes in modern society, particularly in regard to how women were viewed and treated. He was quite happy to live in a world where women were treated for the most part just as well as men. But at the same time, there was a part of him that couldn’t help but love that old-fashioned fantasy of a stay-at-home wife, greeting him with an already cooked dinner waiting for him when he came home from work. That feeling of power, respect, and having someone happy to serve him was sheer bliss. Perhaps it was this old-fashioned longing that found him so attracted to the idea of dominating a woman, of forcing her to serve him and of ultimately forcing her to do it happily with a wagging tail.

But Buddy wasn’t always a dominant fellow. He tried to make everyone feel comfortable and happy as much as possible. And soon, he had found himself attracted to women who could be a bit dominant themselves. Nothing brought him more pleasure, however, than taking a woman who was attempting dominance, and then showing her who was boss. That change in power. That instance where he could see arrogance turn to fear. Dominance to submission. That was as good as it ever got. And that’s how his marriage had started. Unfortunately, his ex-wife had become dominant again during the divorce, ended up costing him a fortune in court. He couldn’t help but feel that he hadn’t been harsh enough with his ex-wife. That if he had nurtured her submissive side by treating her more like a and less like an equal, they would both have been far more happy. In the end, their marriage had ended in a power struggle. That struggle could have been avoided if he had clearly asserted his power within the relationship.

Buddy’s attention was drawn back to the present as his eyes again halted on Hannah. This time, he saw her legs start to change position. They looked so irresistibly creamy and smooth, it was like his eyes refused to let his head turn away while he had an opportunity to see just what she might be hiding underneath that short skirt of hers. Buddy’s eyes widened as Hannah’s legs were apart for that brief moment. He even stopped talking altogether. The girls were all concerned, looking where he was looking to see if he had seen something odd.

Hannah's smile grew bigger, lighting up her entire face, as Professor Barrett stopped mid-sentence, obviously captivated by the little venus-fly-trap between her legs. It was just as well that her legs were quickly crossed again, as she noticed a little bit of dampness spreading around her labia, evidence to how much she enjoyed the compliment Buddy had paid her by his sudden utter devotion to her body in that second of flashing. A bit of blood shot into her cheeks, emphasizing the sweet sprinkling of freckles on her face all the more, as she noticed her own slight arousal at her teasing ways.

Clearing his throat, the Professor continued “Sorry, just felt a little something in my stomach for a second there. Anyway, where were we? Ah yes…”

Yet, her smile never stopped, and her gaze was glued to the professor for the next few minutes, interrupted only by some deliberate batting of her eyelashes as she did her best to hold dominion over his concentration, keeping him from continuing with his lecture.

After a while Buddy couldn’t take it anymore and he called his class to an end, five minutes before schedule. “I guess that’s all I can tell you. Class dismissed. Oh, and Hannah, I need to talk with you for just a second before you go.”

As he dismissed the class and called for her to stay, a warm feeling spread inside Hannah’s chest. Had he taken the bait? She certainly hoped that he didn't simply want to lecture her on inappropriate behavior, although she was certain that she would find a way to deal with that, as well.

Once more she shifted in her seat, the woolen skirt ever so slightly scratching her unprotected bottom, as she said. "Yes, Professor Barrett", in as nonchalant and unsuspicious a way as she could muster. Once all the other students had filed out, Hannah walked to the front of the class, each step like that of a runway model, as she held her folder in front of her ample chest, pressing it slightly against herself to make her cleavage bulge out all the more pleasantly above it, framing her torso like the restricting ballgowns of a bygone century.

"What is it you wanted from li'l ol' me?" She asked, with a captivating smile on her face and in a voice that was just the perfect mixture of childishly-playful and invitingly-femme-fatal, now that any possible witnesses to their conversation had gone.