Watch and Serve

Sunday dragged on like thick tar. I had sat hunched over the books late into the night, eyes burning, fingers cramping from the handwritten drafts. Every shift on the desk chair had been a petty torture: the freshly relocked resin cage chafed unyieldingly against my irritated, hypersensitive flesh. Late the evening before, Loona had reviewed both folders with a razor-sharp tongue and delicious thoroughness, correcting every comma and stroking my hair with a smug grin before dismissing me with: “Flawless. Get it over with on time, sweetheart.”

Now, on Monday morning, I stood in the dim side hallway of the senior wing, not far from the locked art room door. The air smelled of floor wax, damp winter coats, and stale chalk. My fingers clutched the two folders—a deep blue one for the German analysis, a red one for the history sources. Beneath the heavy denim of my dark jeans, the padlock pressed hard against my groin with every shift of my weight.

Muffled footsteps echoed across the linoleum. I looked up, and my stomach plummeted instantly.

Emma rounded the corner. But she wasn't alone.

Beside her walked Leon—broad shoulders, unbuttoned varsity jacket tossed casually over a white t-shirt, hands shoved into the pockets of his loose cargo pants. A guy who held court during every break, captain of the varsity basketball team, accustomed to having everything handed to him. Emma leaned almost lazily against his upper arm as they walked. She was wearing tight, dark trousers that mapped every curve of her hips, paired with a fine knit sweater cut with a wide neckline. When she caught sight of me, an amused spark flared in her heavily lined eyes.

“Well, look at our star student,” she said loudly, her voice dripping with sickly-sweet condescension and cutting contempt. She stopped a step in front of me. Her cloying rose perfume pushed the cool hallway air aside at once, sending heat rushing to my temples in shame.

Leon looked me up and down, lips curved in a lazy, indifferent half-smile. “The guy from calculus? Seriously?”

“He was nice enough to do a little prep work for us,” Emma purred, stepping forward and snatching the folders from my fingers without a single word of thanks. She flipped open the red history binder, skimmed the dense, neat paragraphs, and nodded in approval. “Clean source criticism. Even the footnotes check out.”

In one fluid motion, she turned completely toward Leon, pressed the folder against his broad chest, and looked up at him through lowered, flirtatious lashes.

“Here, babe. As promised. That’ll rescue your midterm grade before report cards are finalized, without you lifting a finger.”

Leon grinned wide, took the binder, and tossed it carelessly onto the windowsill behind him. “You are an absolute legend, Em.”

“I know,” she breathed.

What happened next hit me like a solid punch to the gut.

Leon seized Emma by the waist with a ruthless, effortless entitlement. His large hands slid down her back, unabashedly grabbing two handfuls of her ass right through the thin fabric and pulling her body flush against his. Emma didn’t pull away in the slightest. Letting out a low, throaty giggle, she threw her arms around his neck and mashed her lips against his.

The kiss was wet, demanding, noisy. Leon’s fingers dug deep into her flesh, kneading without restraint, while Emma ground herself against his hips, twisting into the touch with a soft moan. Her eyes were half-lidded—yet mid-kiss, she lifted her gaze and locked eyes with me.

Over Leon’s broad shoulder, she stared straight into my face.

Her eyes gleamed with pure malice while Leon’s tongue pushed into her mouth. She savored every single second of my presence. She wasn’t just showing me how completely worthless I was as a man; she was parading the raw, unbridgeable chasm right before my eyes: I was the untouchable, mute beast of burden pulling all-nighters to earn her scraps—while this guy got her body, her kisses, and the fruits of my labor handed to him for free.

Deep inside my jeans, my body reacted in the cruelest, most traitorous way imaginable.

The sight of Emma’s ass gripped tight, the wet sound of their lips, and the sheer, brazen humiliation sent a searing wave of heat straight to my pelvis. My dick tried desperately to swell, engorging with blood—only to slam violently against the rigid, ice-cold resin shell. The base ring bit painfully into my skin, the casing walls brutally crushing my flesh. It was a breathless collision of jealousy, stinging ache, and a depraved, humiliating arousal that stole the breath right out of my lungs.

After endless seconds, Leon slowly broke the kiss. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and gave Emma another firm smack on the ass. “Good deal, babe. See you at lunch.” Grabbing the red folder, he tossed me a dismissive nod on his way past (“Thanks, kid”) and swaggered down the hall.

Emma stayed put. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips glistening and swollen from the kiss. Smoothing down her sweater, she tucked the blue German folder under her arm and took half a step closer.

Her eyes slid down my torso, zeroing in on my crotch, where my body strained tense and locked beneath the denim. A wicked, knowing smile curled the corners of her mouth.

“Look at you, John,” she whispered, pitched so only I could catch it. “Trembling all over again. Standing there like a kicked dog, pouting your cheeks, hm?”

She leaned forward, her hot breath, carrying hints of mint and coffee, grazing my ear.

“You’re here to work, not to touch. If this paper lands me an A today, you might get to report for duty again next week. Now get to class before the bell rings.”

She turned on her heel and strutted off with swaying hips.

I was left pinned against the wall, utterly numb, nails digging into my palms, unable to straighten my knees. The cage throbbed—hot, suffocating, and unrelenting.

Suddenly, a long, familiar vibration hummed through my thigh pocket.

With shaking fingers, I slipped my phone out. On the screen, a notification from Loona lit up the glass:

“Bell rang. Folders handed over? How did she treat you? Report back to me immediately.”