Hot for Teacher Ch. 02

"Elle, wait," she called. I stopped and turned, releasing my hand from the door handle. I waited for her to say something as she looked around to make sure no one else was there. Whatever she had to say, it seemed like she didn't want other people to hear. "I've noticed that you've been a bit off since Friday, and yesterday in Jay's class you seemed really... on edge."

I shrugged nervously, worried where she was going with this.

"I'm also more than a little bit curious about why you lied about your grade," she continued. "I understand that you didn't want everyone to feel badly that you'd gotten a good grade when we all failed, but you seemed really sad. I also noticed the way your face went pale when I mentioned that you'd be in clinic with Jay today..." She let her voice trail off, and watched me, waiting for me to respond.

"What are you saying, Maria?" I asked calmly, though I felt anything but calm. Suddenly she sighed, her eyebrows knitting together as she prepared to say what was on her mind.

"I don't know how to ask this..." she said slowly, and I braced myself. "But... did Jay... DO something to you? I know that the two of you have clinic alone on Thursday nights, and it seems like all of this has been happening since then."

I backed away, nervously, trying to sound nonchalant.Panic was rising up in my chest.

"Oh my gosh," I said, feeling myself getting warmer. "No, it's nothing like that... I've just felt a little bit down with... um... Andrew being out of town and all."

Understanding and embarrassment washed over her face and she nodded. "Oh, you poor thing! I'm so sorry! I forgot completely that he's been away..."

I laughed nervously, relieved that she seemed to accept this lie.

"It's okay, I understand that I've been acting strangely." I said. Maria looked thoroughly ashamed of herself for suggesting that one of our professors had behaved inappropriately toward a student, and quickly tossed her bookbag onto her shoulders. She apologized again, and quickly left the room. I glanced at the clock and decided that I might as well head down to the clinic and start looking over my case files.

******

"Mr. Martins canceled," Jay announced. I jumped at the sound of his voice, suddenly very near to me. I had been intently reading through the file and listening to my iPod. I looked at the schedule and realized that Mr. Martins' appointment was the only appointment on the schedule. At least I wouldn't have to conduct an evaluation with Jay, still stiff and angry, lurking over my shoulder every step of the way. I was about ready to collect my things to leave when I noticed Jay watching me, silently.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I was dropping my pen into my bag.

"Um... Mr. Martins was the only person on the list..."

"Well, that gives us some time to practice your hearing evaluation skills," he said. I stared at him, confused and too weary from the emotional roller coaster he had put me through to deal with his mind games.

"There are no other patients..." I started, trailing off and trying to make him understand, "... I'm only filling in for Hayley...."

"I know. And you have some things that you need to work on. Do I need to remind you that I'm the director of this clinic, and when I suggest that you work on something, it's to your advantage to do so?"

I shook my head slowly and stood to gather the papers that I would need. I frowned, puzzled.

"How am I supposed to practice?" I asked. "I don't have anyone to practice on..."

"You can use me as your patient," he explained, calmly. I was nervous about that idea, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that there was one other supervisor, Kelly, working that night. As if she knew that I had just been thinking about her, Kelly popped into the room at that precise moment, and peered around the doorway to see the clock. I was relieved that she was there, since I didn't think Jay would dare to try anything while there was another person around. I was in a big enough mess, I didn't really want to do anything with him again. She grabbed the schedule, shrugged, and turned to Jay.

"It looks like my pediatric patient is a no show today," she said to him. "Is it okay if I head out early? Jeff is getting out late tonight, so I'd like to get home and start making dinner for the kids."

Jay looked at me, a faint smile flickering on his lips, but then quickly disappearing. He was all business when he turned back to Kelly. She didn't seem to think there was anything strange about how he had looked at me... maybe she didn't even notice.

"Sure, no problem Kelly."

"Thanks so much, Jay!" she said, beaming at him in surprise. It was probably a rare day that Jay Williams let his employees leave early. She didn't wait for him to think about it twice. "I'll see you tomorrow." She smiled at me and waved, then turned to leave, and then turned back around, suddenly remembered something. "I almost forgot to tell you, Jay, Ellen called earlier."

Jay nodded and thanked her, taking his phone out of his pocket, looking at it briefly, and then putting it back. Kelly was already walking away.

It was as if the pit of my stomach had dropped out. Jay and I were suddenly alone in the clinic as the door shut behind Kelly with an air of finality.

"I'll go get settled in the chair if you want to come in and instruct me," Jay said. I sighed, not sure of what I should do. I could make a run for it, now. I dawdled while trying to decide, turning on the tympanometer and the audiometer as he sat in the booth.

"I'm waiting, Elle," he called from the booth. "Please think about your clinic grade, and how I've given you not one, but two easy breaks on grades in this past week..."

Swallowing hard, I gathered my courage, then strode as confidently as I could into the booth and sat down across from him. He motioned toward the door with a flick of his eyes, so I reluctantly stood and shut it. It was deafeningly quiet in that booth. I decided to do as he had told me to the previous day; pretend that nothing had happened between us, and I really was just practicing. I forced a shaky smile and began his case history.

"When did you first notice your hearing difficulty, Dr. Williams?" I asked.

He surveyed my face and body critically before asking, "Is that really how you start your case histories?"

He was looking at me with one brow raised in questioning disappointment.

"I... I don't... know..." I stammered quietly, getting flustered and feeling my hands start to shake.

"I'm hearing impaired, and I can't hear you, you'll have to come closer!" he shouted, obnoxiously. I jumped from the sudden change in loudness.

I stared at him blankly, wishing that I had never agreed to switch with Hayley. I wanted to leave. He must have seen the terrified, blank expression on my face, because he suddenly relaxed.

"Sorry, I'll stop. You really should practice, though... we can skip the rest of the case history."

I sighed, wondering what would happen if I left.

"Who's Ellen?" I asked, standing from my seat. His eyes narrowed as he leveled his steely gaze at me.

"My wife," he replied flatly. "She called me a few times on my phone and left me some messages... I'll talk to her when I get home."

I stared at him, realizing that I wasn't the only one who suffered from the brunt of his cruel indifference.

"Maybe it's important..." I said, disgusted by his apathy toward his wife. "Maybe someone is hurt or sick."

"Maybe..." he said, clearly indicating that he didn't want to talk about it anymore by folding his hands in his lap, and watching me expectantly. I shook my head in disbelief and turned to grab an otoscope from a shelf in the booth. I approached him with caution and gingerly grasped his earlobe, pulling it back lightly and placing the otoscope in his ear.

"You can be a little rougher than that," he said, chuckling quietly. I couldn't stand it when he laughed at me, especially when it should have been clear that I was trying to be professional. My anger at his apathy got the best of me and I tugged hard enough on his ear to cause some pain. He jumped, then shot me a look that was dripping with venom. My returning stare was challenging. He sat silently as I crossed to his other side, tripping a bit on his feet in the small, enclosed space. I was embarrassed and nervous, and I realized nervously that I could feel him staring at my ass. After the otoscopic exam, I patiently recited the process of pure tone audiometry to him as I would to a patient. I grabbed the headphones from where they hung on the wall and bent over to place them over his ears, realizing for the first time how low my shirt was. He apparently noticed, too, as he was staring blatantly down my shirt. I unthinkingly reached to my shirt with one hand, holding the headphones with my other hand. Before I could stop him, he reached up and grabbed my hand that was clutching the shirt. I didn't have enough time to react and let go, so my hand ended up clumsily ripping out the top several buttons and revealing my lacy, black bra. I gasped, dropped the headphones, and quickly closed my shirt while he stared.

He suddenly reached out with both arms and pulled me on top of him. As before, in his office, I was helpless against his strength, despite that I struggled. He was planting wet kisses along my neck while holding me tightly too him. I strained against his arms, kicking wildly at the air with my legs. I accidentally kicked the otoscope off a table and it landed on the floor with a dull thud.

"If you break my equipment, you'll have to pay for it," he murmured threateningly in my ear. Grabbing a hold of either side of my shirt while I fought to push his hands away, he ripped the rest of my shirt open. Black buttons burst off, flying in every direction and clattering on the hard surfaces that they landed on. Hoping to catch him off guard, I turned quickly toward him, twisted my arm away from him and slapped him as hard as I could across his face. His head turned a bit with the blow, and he was startled enough that he released his grip for a moment that was just long enough for me to squirm away from him. I stood and then stumbled toward the heavy booth door. I tried to pull it open, but it was suctioned shut. While I struggled, he stood and grabbed me again. He clasped me roughly by the neck and stomach, his blue eyes filled with a malicious gleam.

"You slapped me, you fucking bitch," he spat loudly, flecks of his saliva dripping on the back of my neck. I was panicking now, and having trouble breathing, clawing desperately at his arm that held my neck with my fingernails. He winced as my nails dug into his flesh, but he didn't let go.

"You were right," I gasped, struggling in vain to break free. "We should just end this..." I regretted not just letting this whole thing drop after our discussion in his office. I was terrified for more than my reputation now as my struggles grew weaker. I was starting to feel tingly and numb...

"End it?!" he asked with a mirthless laugh. "You made it clear how badly you wanted me, you whore. There's no going back now." He finally relaxed his hold on my neck, startled, apparently, that he had been holding me so tightly. I gasped, choking and spluttering for air. He regained his composure quickly, threw me into the chair he had been sitting in and set to work binding my arms and legs with various cables attached to the wall behind me. I was too weak from nearly choking to make any spectacular attempts to fight back.

"W-what are you going to d-do to me?" I moaned, shaking with fright. I was secured to the chair so tightly that the cables were digging sharply into my arms, quickly cutting off my circulation. He ignored me and seemed intent on finding something.

"Where's your phone?" he asked, tearing the booth door open. "In your purse?"

Too terrified and perplexed to answer, I simply nodded. I desperately hoped that someone would happen to walk by in the hall outside of the booth. My spirits were crushed when he stalked back into the room, slamming the door back shut behind him, now holding my phone and looking maniacally delighted. He sat down across from me, smirking triumphantly at me and crossing one leg over the other. The room was quiet aside from the sound of my whimpering, his heavy breathing, and the click of the buttons on my phone as he searched for something.

His smile slowly slid off of his face with each passing minute that whatever he was looking for eluded him. I could feel my heart fluttering madly in my chest, waiting for something to happen.

"And there it is!" he suddenly exclaimed, very loudly, the maniacal smile creeping back onto his face. He turned my phone around so that I could see clearly what he had found. My mouth gaped open in horror as I realized what a horrible mistake it had been to send some horribly risque photos of myself to my fiance several months ago. How could I have forgotten to delete those? Against my will, tears started to slide down my cheeks. "I think I'll send these to myself... just in case you try to claim that I raped you."

"Are you g-going to?" I asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

He replied with a smile and a laugh, neither of which reassured me. He stood and left the room once again, the door shutting ominously behind him. I wept silently, my arms and legs aching from the cables which held me. When he returned, he looked as though he had regained his composure. He shut the door quietly behind him and I saw that he was holding something metallic in his hand. Realizing what it was, I screamed. It was a razor blade.

"That won't do you any good," he shouted over my scream. "There's no one here... it's just you, and me."

I began to weep loudly, and openly, which did not seem to have any effect on him. He approached me slowly with the blade, and I backed into the chair as far as possible.

"Sit still," he commanded. I did as I was told-- what else could I do now?-- and shut my eyes tightly, tears flowing freely down my face. He grasped the top of my skirt and I heard the soft tearing of fabric as the skirt was pulled away, revealing my matching, black, lace underwear. Next, he carefully cut off the remainder of my shirt. He pulled my bra by the connecting middle strap and sliced it deftly with one flick of the blade. The bra fell away, revealing my breasts.

His eyes grew wide and hungry as they roamed over my nearly naked body. I longed to snap my legs shut, but they were tied to either side of the chair. All of a sudden, he tenderly caressed my face, and I cringed away from his touch, disgusted.

"You really pissed me off," he said, suddenly apologetic. "I'm sorry, I can't read your goddamned mind... I tried breaking things off with you and you acted like I was breaking your heart. So I tried to rekindle things, and all of a sudden, you decided that you didn't want me anymore, after all. You're fucking with my mind..."

I didn't know what exactly to say to all of this, so I slowly and carefully responded in the most neutral tone that I could manage.

"It's okay... I'm sorry, too."

Apparently he believed that all really was alright, despite that tears were still streaming down my face. He moaned and started kissing my breasts. I felt sick as his tongue flicked across my nipples, and winced as he bit me, lightly. He reached up with one hand and began squeezing my tits roughly, sending shocks of pain through my chest. I waited anxiously for him to stop.

"Please, that hurts... can you let me out of the chair?" I asked with a hint of desperation.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he murmured, stroking my hair with his hand while the other remained on my breast, though he had relaxed his grip. He looked at me thoughtfully, then stood up. "I can let you go, but remember that I have those pictures now... I'm not done with you yet, so don't try to run." Where would I run to in the city, alone and naked while he had my phone, with my car parked 2 miles away?

He started to loosen the cables. As my right arm was freed, I sighed, rubbing the sore, red lines that had been cut into my skin.

"What else are you going to do to me?" I asked, feeling more calm now, as he worked.

"You're going to give me what I asked you for last night," he answered. I didn't understand.

"You asked for... pictures," I said, at first unable to recall what he had asked for last night; it seemed like so long ago. "You have pictures..." I said, hoping that there was some way he would just let me go.

"Those weren't taken specially for me, though, were they?" he asked. I felt defeated. Hopefully pictures were all that he wanted... I doubted that, though, by one look at the growing bulge in his pants. "I want some further 'proof' that you came on to me, and that all of this was consensual... If, God forbid, it ever gets out."

I bit back a retort, afraid of what he would do to me if I gave him anymore attitude. When my leg was free, I rubbed it and sat in the chair for a moment. Jay waited patiently as I recuperated. I finally looked up at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious that we were both sitting here calmly and quietly, and I was almost completely nude. He thrust my phone into my lab.

"Stand up straight with your legs spread a little bit, hold your phone above your head, and put your other hand on your hip... then take a picture."

I shakily rose from the chair and moved into the position that he wanted me in, then prepared to take the picture. He stopped me before I could.

"You need to smile..."

I weakly forced a smile and took a picture.

"I guess that's good enough," he said, looking at the picture. "You don't look very happy, but I'm sure you'll warm up."

He directed me to get into other positions, each more degrading than the last. I could see his enormous erection bulging in his pants, and wondered when he would want more than pictures...

"Take off your panties," he instructed. I blinked, once again feeling self-conscious, then I did as I was told. I slid them down to my thighs, then let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. He sat there, staring critically at every inch of my naked body. I shivered. How, despite the harsh and violent way that he had treated me, could I still be feeling the slightest bit aroused? The hunger in his eyes was clear, but even more clear was how much fun he was having making me do whatever he wanted.

He instructed me to take another picture like the first, and to take another of my ass. Then, he took out his own phone.

"Now, I want some for myself," he said, holding the phone up. "Not for evidence."

He instructed me to sit in the chair, to spread my legs apart, and to touch myself. I sat down and nervously eyed his camera. He watched me through the lens as I sat, unmoving for a few moments, nervous and ashamed. He looked up at me sharply.

"Well?" he said.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again.

"Please, no..." I begged softly.

"You can't tell me you've never done this before..." he said, suspiciously. "You proved in my office on Thursday night what a whore you are-- I don't imagine that there's anything you haven't done."

"Never on a camera... or in front of anyone," I muttered, my legs tightly clenched shut. He sighed, set his phone down, and crossed over to me, kneeling in front of me and looking up at me with his blue eyes.

"I know that I've been horrible to you today," he said, rubbing my thighs and my hips. He appeared genuinely concerned for me, and momentarily I relaxed. "You're so fucking sexy... and so infuriating sometimes... its really frustrating, and I let my anger get the better of me." He pulled me up and then sat in the chair, pulling me on his lap. I dabbed at my teary eyes with my fingers and he tenderly kissed my forehead. He rubbed my arms and my back in a slow, methodical motion. I found myself leaning into his touch. I was so fatigued and confused by the strong attraction that my body felt, despite my screaming mind, that I leaned toward him, letting him kiss me deeply. I felt his hardness shift in his pants underneath me.